


May All Acquaintance Be Forgot...

by Punk_in_Docs



Series: Along Came Benedict: The Ben and Libby Saga... [14]
Category: Actor RPF, Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF, JJ Fields
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lights, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, Christmas Tree, Christmas With The Turners, Christmas at Home, F/M, In fact we will!, Just Lots of Xmas Stuff Ok?, New Year's Eve, Old Lang Syne, Proposals, We May Finally Meet The Turner Clan..., Wedding Rings, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 03:41:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3366425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_in_Docs/pseuds/Punk_in_Docs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bye Libs… Have a Merry Christmas.”</p><p>Before he got to the door and pulled it open, a gust of bitter December air ruffling that flop of tousled brown curls on his head, she watched with many lost words struggling on her lips as he walked away.</p><p>“Merry Christmas. Ben..” </p><p>She mumbled, seemingly to herself. As he disappeared before she could get a word in edgeways. When in truth, they both had so much more than that to say...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Antler's, Drinks and Hot Romps...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All of My Dear Readers - This Ones For you Guys x](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+of+My+Dear+Readers+-+This+Ones+For+you+Guys+x).



   

     

        

       

      

 

“Ok, I may have the patience, of a very saintly saint. Who was Born a saint, into a saintly family, whose best friends were all saints and whose about to be canonized as a saint, for the 450th time, But I will beg right now on my hands and knees that you do not make me unravel any more, sodding, bloody assing Xmas Tree Lights!” JJ whinged.

Libby rolled her eyes at his little rant across from him in the kitchen, pouring him a cup of tea in an attempt to soothe the frazzled man also known as her boyfriend.

She crossed into the lounge to find that indeed, every spare conceivable inch of her sofa was strewn with flashing xmas lights, and the tall man unwinding them was also… He looked imacculately handsome today. Cosy thick speckled grey jumper on his top half, customary wrinkled jeans on his lanky legs, and as he had been busy with his head buried in a book until Libby insisted she needed his help, he still had his ‘Retro’ black reading glasses on that made him look temptingly like Jude Law in the Holiday. Libby watched as he grit his teeth, working on a stubborn knot in the long tangled line of lights, one strand of long tawny hair flopping down his forehead from where the rest was sexily pushed back. – probably due to the stress of de-knotting the xmas lights, Libby thought.

She crossed quickly into the room smiling, seeing that their Xmas tree indeed looked quite naked without any lights, but plenty of xmas decorations dotted expertly all over it, all it needed now was the lights strung up to complete it. But she didn’t think she should tell JJ to hasten himself.

She stood down the tea, and tidied up the pile of good living magazines, stood his tea down on the coffee table, looking ahead to see her xmas adorned mantel complete with a roaring fire inside the hearth, the xmas atmosphere nicely rounded up by the fact that Michael Buble’s Xmas album whaled soulfully in the background. She smiled and patted Finley on the head, - on which she had earlier placed a pair of antlers on the dog. Who did nothing but wag his tail and continue snoozing on her armchair that he had claimed as his own when JJ moved some of his things in.

They were still taking turns staying at each others places frequently. It was the best of both worlds for them, they had spent nearly every day together since their impromtu fuck fest a couple of months ago in Autumn. Now November and most of December had gone, and Christmas was now just a mere week away. London had turned from cold to colder, but Libby felt warmer than ever now she had JJ in her life. And Finley – She loved the retriever to bits. Spoiling the dog rotten with treats and toys even though JJ told her not too. She’d just nod, and slip him a gravy bone when JJ’s head was turned.

“JJ. You don’t have to untangle any more Xmas lights…” Libby persisted, crossing and hugging his waist from behind, pressing a gentle and kind kiss to his neck.

“No. It’ll frustrate me If I don’t…” He said, frowning at the lights like they were his ultimate arch enemy.

Libby crossed to the tree and took more decorations out of the box, hanging them in areas of the tree that looked most sparse.

“So. The lights, the décor, music, and food…”

JJ asked, gesturing to the tonne of chinese food she had ordered, of which they had already gorged themselves on earlier.

“…This is your Christmas tradition?” He asked with a gentle tone and that signature smile.

“Famous Turner Tradition. Well, the music and the decorations part is. I was the one to suggest the excessive ordering of chinese food. I’ll always remember fondly every christmas I would wait with baited breath for the day when christmas arrived, it meant that me, my mum and dad and other family members would gather, fight over the crispy duck and shout at the incompetency of each others efforts at decorating…” Libby smiled fondly, reaching up on tiptoes to place another bauble on a high tree branch.

JJ watched her with a smile.

“That sounds like a perfect family Christmas to me.” JJ laughed.

“It get’s better when Christmas day arrives…” Libby assured him.

“My dad will ineveitably forget to set a timer for the turkey, and will suggest I am silly for writing down all the cooking times, which he can’t read without his glasses, who will then proceed to shout mild temperedly at my mother as to where they are, who will be three sheets to the wind on prossecco by this point, and my Aunt would then berate my granddad for shouting at the TV to work, which always turns out to be the microwave… and somewhere in between all of this, all three of my adult cousins will fall out over some board game and everyone will fight over who gets the comfy sofa, who gets to watch what on telly, and who ate the last malteser celebration. But, that’s christmas to me…”

Libby smiled. Remembering every xmas at home that followed that _exact_ pattern. To the very last meticulous detail.

JJ watched enraptured as Libby looked beautiful and happy at recalling the details of her family Xmas. She loved her family, adored each one of them. And it really shone through when she spoke about them…

“You look enchanting when you talk about your family..” JJ mentioned softly, crossing to her, linking his arm about her waist and tugging her close so he could kiss her fondly on the lips.

But, as always, it was one of his scandalous kisses that usually landed them in bed naked and in stunning afterglow of a truly great shag.

Libby moaned against his smiling lips that were weakening her thoughts. And willpower.

“Stop trying to sex me up, you rascal, I already told you I’m going out tonight for drinks with Jules, Charley and Tessa.”

Libby prersisted as JJ gave her a famous pout mated with his knicker shedding gaze that was almost 99% effective at _all_ times. Eyes sizzling through the frames of his glasses at her, smile cheeky, dangerous and persuading.

JJ let out a low growl as she tried to move away, this only succeeded in him aliging their hips and JJ increasing his hold on her.

“Can you make me a filthy promise?” JJ asked, scanning her up and down so her tummy squirmed with heat at that look that instantly made her want to cross her thighs for fear of arousal flooding her pants.

“MMnnnnn.” Libby growled softly at him, looking at him with trepadation.

“I don’t like where this is…… _going…_.”

She sighed the last part of her sentence as a gush of girly words as her spine thrashed as he kissed up her neck so slowly, he may aswell have just given her an orgasm for the way in which she lost all ability to complete a coherent thought or speech.

“Look gorgeous for me tonight…”

He whispered gently and slowly into her ear, by now, her blood was throbbing through her veins with hot lust for him. Nearly forcing her to think ‘ _screw drinks with the girls, I want to be taken upstairs and taken roughly over and overmand over and over til my body is too sore to orgasm anymore’_

“..And why would that be?”

Libby sighed, smiling as her body was numbed from his kiss, curling into him as her brain went fuzzy and lust was now firing her every cell on all cylinders for him, and him alone. Well- maybe for his cock too…. The impressive thing it was that even the hint of made her thighs shudder.

“Because, when you come back, all tipsy from drinks and all sweaty from having danced too much. I’m going to give you an earth shattering orgasm… and I’m going to do it by eating that gorgeous pussy out like I’m on death row and you’re my last meal…”

He promised into her ear. Voice huskier than a dog sled team. A voice that was all pure liquid velvet and bonfire smoke. Dark, promising and so full of lust Libby’s thighs clamped together, her sex aching moistly at his promise.

Libby thought she had bitten her lip so hard that she tasted blood.

She could respond with nothing but a girly shrug and a slight breathless ‘ _Oh…_.’ Escaping her gaping mouth. Her thighs twitched, and she was definitely sure she was atleast semi drenched now.

“Careful, you’ll make me revise even going in the first place…”

Libby warned, after kissing him til his lips turned red and they both needed oxygen badly, and she needed to douse herself in water to rid herself of the all over body blush that overtook her.

JJ raised a brow in a sexy manner that nearly made her swoon like an ailing victorian women in a penny novelette.

She felt like proclaiming ‘Oh Mr Darcy’ dramatically as she put a hand to her forehead as she would collapse daintily to the floorboards. But the main difference was that she was no giggling little prim Miss Bennett, and Elizabeth Bennett would never be so horny ( like Libby now was) as to beg Mr Darcy to take her roughly, right where she stood on the floor of the living room. Not exactly something Austen mentions frequently in her works… Libby thought.

But damn it all to hell, it’s what she was about three seconds away from asking JJ to do to her.

“I better go and get dressed then. Big night ahead…” Libby hushed in a breathy voice.

JJ winked, but not before whispering one more sordid sentence into her ear to make sure he truly did cause a flood that matched biblical proportions to invade her knickers,

“Stop woolgathering and get up those stairs and shimmy that sexy ass into a stunningly unfair dress, before I decide I need to sext you all night long about how much I would like to fuck you as hard as I possibly can, on every flat surface of this house. Now mush...”

Libby tore herself away. Glad to be changing out of her now – sopping – knickers. Such a _Bad_ man.

 

~

 

“Time?” Libby shouted down.

JJ had done battle to the best of his abilities with the christmas lights, and had even succeeded In untangling them. And was now fighting to string them around the tree.

He checked her clock on the mantel.

“8:09” He shouted up.

“That only leaves 21 minutes to get myself into Mayfair…”

Libby unhappily pointed out.

JJ smiled.

“Is that a smile I’m hearing, Mr Fields?”

Libby asked, sounding like she was on her landing from upstairs.

JJ laughed.

“Damn your inescapable penchant for judging my responses…” He shouted up.

He heard her laugh, as heels clacked from the bathroom, back over to her bedroom.

As soon as Libby had left the room, J had taken advantage of her absence to switch over the music to something a little more pleasing. B.B King to be precise, ‘The Thrill Is Gone’ Michael Buble’s Christmas songs suffered a quick and merciless death to silence at JJ’s hands, replaced by the King’s soulful boom which when teamed with a swinging jazz band and an electric guitar, made any atmosphere sexy. It made It especially so when he heard heels make their nimble way down the wooden staircase.

As Libby walked down, she rolled her eyes at hearing the swaying soul put a sway in her hips as she came down the stairs.

She had decided upon a quite girly dress for tonight, it was another Zuhair Murad Dress, like many of her short cocktail dresses were, it was slightly skimpy, and no one could accuse her of not being sexy. It was quite a sheer dress, with a nice laced cut on the arms and around the neck, and for all the dangers of provoking JJ to shag her on the spot where she stood, it was figure hugging and ended just mid thigh.

It was everything he requested her to be. Unfairly stunning and gorgeous.

As was she.

She hadn’t made herself up overmuch, just a sweep of copper eyeshadow and dark eyeliner and mascara to make her eyes look feline and limitlessly alluring to look at. Apart from that, her face was relatively naked. JJ adored that.

She was just pulling on her soft cashmere cream coat when he sauntered through the lounge to get a better look at her. biting his lip as he scanned her up and down. She was busy appying a slick of neutral lip gloss to her full lips, stood there looking all curvy and as sinful as hell in strappy nude heels with devil red soles and curled red hair tousled on her scalp, her droopy gold earrings dangled like chandeliers from her ears and she could almost feel his eyes _burning_ holes into her back. A quick study in the mirror in front of her confirmed this fact as she stood with her back to him, a sexy flick of the eyes forward with those long bambi lashes did the trick.

He wanted her madly now she looked like walking sex on legs.

She turned as he stalked towards her, he managed to quickly capture her lips for a sinful kiss, wrapping his arms around the slender curves masked under the coat.

When they pulled away, JJ was wearing more lip gloss than she was.

She smiled, reaching up with a tumb to wipe away the smudge of sticky nude gloss that had slicked onto his lips when he trapped her and weakened her knees with that kiss.

He had a habit of doing that to her.

As she did, he stared her down with bedroom eyes that almost beckoned her back upstairs again.

“I won’t be late..” She persisted.

“Be as late as you please, Lucky. I’ve got House of Cards on Netflix, and enough chinese food to feed Napoleans army twice over.”

He insisted with that signiture wink of his. Taking her chin in his smooth hand, he held her head in place as he kissed her again.

“And no matter what time you walk through that door, you can’t escape the fact that when you re-enter this house, you will be getting shagged to within an inch of your life…”

Libby smiled sexily.

“Just so I have the visual to sustain me for the evening, how do you plan on shagging me to within an inch of my life?” She asked in a confidently sexy whisper.

“With your legs up to my shoulders until you collapse from cumming too hard.” He said. Sounding like he had thought it through in much careful fastidiousness.

Libby nodded, looking impressed, and feigning a bland response even though her sex was aching with every promise he made.

“Well. Glad I cleared that little problem up.”

She winked, kissing him once more before crossing to the door.

“Go have fun.”

JJ insisted, still with those bedroom eyes being framed by his glasses as he leant against her lounge doorway looking like six feet of pure primal, sheet clawing and screamingly good sex rolled into one man, and his stupefyingly handsome face.

“I’ll try. Have to get that previous image out of my mind less I ruin these knickers too.” She smiled, winking from around her front door.

“I’ll be in touch…”

He promised. Libby just knew she would be getting a sext later in the evening.

“Bye Jay.”

She smiled before she slunk away, shutting the door behind her.

She was safely ensconsed in a cab five minutes later, happily looking forward to catching up with Charley and Jules again, when she received the first text.

She smiled, shaking her head as she pulled her phone out of her clutch bag.

Safe to say, her thighs and sex clenched as she read the text on the screen:

_‘Your knickers are already predestined to an ill fate later on tonight anyway. My dear._

_I hope for your sake the promise that you’re going to ride my face until you can’t take it won’t ruin your knickers too much._

_Enjoy your night. I know I will with that thought in mind. ;) x ‘_

Libby shook her head. She was going to need a new wardrobe by the time JJ was finsihed with her.

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Cocktails, Gossips and Girls...

Mr Foggs bar was one of those truly great London finds that hardly anyone knew about. It was hidden just off berekely street, in an unassuming building off a fairly well known street. Yet Foggs remained a diamond in the rough, as it were. She had been fortunate enough to find it on a boozy night out for Tom’s 32nd Birthday. She wasn’t so far gone that she didn’t remember what street she, Tom and Ben had stumbled down and miraculously finding the great atmospheric little bar tucked away into a little arcade off the main street. And it was the atmosphere of the place that stuck with you more than anything else, even the mouth watering scrummy cocktails they served, it belonged to that Olde brand of English Victorian extravagence. Unicycles and birdcages swarmed the ceiling by the bar, a large old fashioned red and white circus tent mushroomed in one corner of the place, crowding the old cracked leather sofa’s, and animal heads and fur’s strewn across the walls. It brought to mind the circus, and handlebar moustaches. Libby smiled as she ducked through the door past bouncers and people, smiling at the gorilla sized thug who gave her a gruff grin as he lifted the rope for her to glide past, she smiled as she got into the well packed place, craning her neck, she found her familiar patrons crowded round the empty end of the bar. Her friend from Uni, Charley, was busy pulling a couple of pints and shaking cocktails behind the bar, clearly tonight wasn’t her night off. She had met Charley as she was doing her BA in Illustration, and Charley her BA in fashion, their paths were crossed regularly, and Libby soon found that she was funny, quirky and full of life and laughter, she had amazing caramel skin that never blemished, and amazingly curly brown hair that formed a fantastic afro, and melted chocolate hued doe eyes. Also there was her thick and curvy body shape that she had gained from her heritage, with a great ass and figure. So she was never short of a boyfriend. The others, well, Tessa was there laughing into her half full martini glass, her dark waves were twisted up into a fancy braid of some sort, grey eyes jovial and glinting as she laughed at Jules. Speaking of whom, Jules was one of those friends who you couldn’t believe you had ever gone without, and Libby could recall they had first met about six years ago, having bumped into each other at a Literary Event, As Libby was an Authoral Illustrator, and Jules a Childrens book editor, Jules was an amazingly pretty and slender petite girl, with a blonde pixie crop and glittering green eyes. This meant she had earned the nickname ‘Tinkerbell’ more times often than not. Yet, despite having a figure that was like a surfboard, and in her own words “annoyingly wide and shapeless” also claiming that her boobs were flatter than two pancakes stuck to an ironing board, yet Libby still maintained that she had one of those body shapes that magazines flaunted, a tiny waist and very long legs. All in all, she was still stunning. No matter how much she likened her body to various flat surface boards.

Libby wound her way over to them through the throngs of people, adoring the fact that they had earmarked a stool for her in admist their own made her smile. They orobably defended it like a pack of hounds, as there were more than a few people stood up, and many other chairs not going to waste. Typical of them. She smiled at that thought. As she neared closer, she saw that Charley was dressed not in her civvies, but in her work clothes, and as she was deputy manager, she was dressed casually as her station at the job so allowed her to do. Libby could make out a white racer backed top under her black “Fogg” sleeveless waiscoat. And she was just willing to bet that she had black jeans on her curvy legs, and chunky boots on her feet. Tessa, looked very bohemian chic, in a blue morrocan patterned floaty dress with a belt to clinch in her slender willowy waist, she also had heeled fringed boots on her feet and huge silver earrings with turquoise dripping from her ears down to her throat. Jules was dark and forboding in her long slim black trousers, and sleeveless collared shirt that made an ‘X’ form across her back, leaving part of her pale skin exposed. The enchanting beauties that were her closest friends attracted many males eyes to start wandering from across the bar.

Charley was the first to spot her. And shimmied out from behind the bar, holding her arms out to collapse Libby into a hug when she got there.

Libby laughed as Charley did too.

“Offically. Been too long, I have missed you… Wow…” Charley exclaimed, holding Libby’s arm out so she could see the amazing dress that swathed her friends curvy body.

“And, still unfairly stunning I see…”

Charley answered, smiling nicely as she moved back behind the bar and started to mix Libby a lethally good daquiri.

“Please, you. Making me blush already…” Libby chided her as she moved to give Jules a kiss and a hug.

“Oh, the best is yet to come, she’s been yacking our ears off about her new boyfriend since we sat down.”

“Well _Welllllll_ …” Libby purred teasingly to Charley who blushed a little under the scrutiny as Jules looked immensely pleased with herself.

Tessa welcomed Libby with a hug.

“How’s it hanging red?” Tessa asked.

Libby lifted a wry eyebrow.

“I’m sure you’ll find out in due course…” Libby explained as she sat down.

“Spill. Red. How’s that Benedict of yours?” Jules asked as she took another sip of her drink.

Libby smiled, downcasting her eyes to the large pink drink sprouting a red umbrella and numerous fat red strawberries clinging onto the rim. Charley could easily be accused of showing favouritism between her patrons. Obviously.

“I wouldn’t know. We haven’t spoken in over three months now…” Libby smiled, looking to Jules whose smile dropped.

Charley nearly dropped the drink shaker she was holding, mouth gaping. Looking surprised. Non suprisingly…

“How, why, where, what who….” Charley asked.

“You forgot when… Details. We needs some.” Jules chimed in.

Libby smiled.

“Long story short…” Libby began. She peered over to Tessa who gave her a comforting smile.

“Ben’s marrying a harpy. I tried to tell him this. We fell out. Badly. The end.”

“How?” Charley asked confusedly.

“The man, worships you…”

Libby’s smile struggled not to grow.

Jules narrowed her eyes.

“That’s not all.” Libby added.

“Spill. Out with it. I am single at present I need information about people who have a life.”

“You have a life…” Libby pointed out.

“No. I have 3 promotions, a great office and a PA…” Jules grinned.

Libby laughed. She couldn’t help it. Jules was the workaholic of the group for sure.

“I’m. Seeing someone else…”

“I bet it’s Tom.” Charley hazarded a guess, looking disapointed when Libby shook her head.

“A new guy?” Jules asked.

Tessa crossed her legs, suddenly looking interested. Trying to read Libby’s smile.

“No. Don’t you sit there and tell me it’s…” She began

She trailed off when Libby finally said the name.

“It’s JJ.”

Charley sucked in a breath.

Jules mouth gaped in jealousy.

“I just saw AUstenland, YUM! And, I now hate you!” She gasped.

“A Fine Choice…” Tessa waggled her eyebrows.

Libby went pink.

“How is he?”

“Charley!!” Libby asked, partly horrified.

“That’s the problem with handsome men, never good in bed because they never have to be…” Jules predicted.

“JJ does not have that problem, at all.” Libby blushed.

Tessa smiled as she sipped on her martini daintily.

“Any chance you could back me up so the pigeon sisters here don’t think I’m lying…” Libby asked Tessa.

Tessa held her hands aloft.

“No. I’ll give you that. He has the kind of face and body that could give the furniture multiple orgasms just by sitting on them.”

“I don’t care if he gives it to the furniture, I want to know if he gives it to our Red here…” Jules winked, slinging an arm around Libbys shoulder as she sipped her drink, and looked down focusing on the rim of the glass, not meeting any of their eyes.

“You want the truth?” Libby asked.

They all nodded. Far too eagerly.

“Truth is…” Libby began…

“JJ is…. He’s…. easily 6ft in just his socks. Dances like a drunk dad at a wedding. Likes the cheesiest smooth easy listening jazz he can get away with. Has a voice like a panther trapped in a double base, smells – divinely irresistable, and. My god, the sex is mind bendingly unbelievable. And, the best part is, I’m mad about him.”

Libby finished, eyes far off and gloomy as her tummy flipped with thoughts of her JJ.

The three girls hearts softened at seeing that their friend was utterly enraptured.

“That’s not so funny.” Jules began.

Charley smiled at Libby, a huge wide smile that told he she deserved to be loved like that. After all the mangle styled few months Cumberbatch had put her through.

“That’s no so funny at all.” Charley smiled, handing a tray of drinks out to a waiter.

“Moving on.” Libby illustrated her point firmly, finally getting a chance to shrug her coat off and place it down behind her.

“Oh, I’d kill for a rack like yours…” Jules wondered as Libby’s bust in the pretty dress came into view.

“Oh really? Do your’s ever threaten to knock you out should you run _unbridled_ up the stairs..”

“Do you have to buy bikini tops made for pre pubescent eight year olds? No! So shut your face!”

Libby was laughing too much by this point to respond.

“Simmer down.” Charley said loudly, above the tune of ‘Lady, hear me Tonight’ by Modjo, which she was bopping her head along too as she poured a drink.

“I’m beginning to feel like the fucking ref here..” Tessa chimed in.

“I will, I will simmer down because I want to hear about Charley’s new boyfriend.” Libby purred.

Charley looked shy all of a sudden.

“Tell me, tell me tell me.” Libby plagued.

“His names Alex.” Charley began. Libby recognised that glint of rapture in her friends eyes only far too well. Because it was one that she herself had recently been infected with. The look of love.

“He works for Archspace architects… He has offices here and in New York, and Milan…” Charley explained.

Libby and Jules made an ‘OhhhHHHHHHH” sound in unison.

“He also has an Aston Martin and an apartment that overlooks Hyde Park.”

“You’ve slept with him!” Libby accused.

Charley turned away, biting her lips slyly, again.

Tessa, Libby and Jules all clinked their glasses and drank as they took their friends sheepish answer for a ‘yes’

 

~

 

 

It was only after an excessive and silly amount of dancing, and no thanks to her aching feet in her heels that Libby and Tessa both collapsed back in their barstools as the dancing continued.

Jules was still shaking what she had out on the floor, and Charley – whose shift had finished – was joining her.

Libby and Tessa laghed drunkenly into their drinks as they drained the last dreggs.

“I’m too old for this…” Tessa laughed.

“I have too many functioning nerves in my feet, _for this_ …” Libby shouted back over the thumping music.

“Let the young fledglings have their fun. I’d rather be were the alcohol and comfy chairs are.”

“Oh, that’s offically old of us.” Libby winced.

“Yep, I don’t care. I’m an old fart, I’ll happily admit to that.” Tessa smiled, raising her glass in a toast and gulping it down.

“Correction, a _hot_ old fart!” Libby added. Slumped against her seat, smiling, laughing and with the beginnings of dewy sweat making itself known on her chest, forehead and back.

“You, you!” Tessa pointed into Libby’s face.

“…Have a fine assed morsel of a man waiting at home for you, who can shag you through til next Tuesday, why are you still here?” Tessa asked.

“Free drinks courtesy of Charley and her mates rates.” Libby laughed.

“You know what I mean…” Tessa drawled, giving Libby a slow grey eyed wink. A veritable nudge in the elbows.

“Plus, he know’s your out drinking with the girls, you are bound to talk about sex, multiple orgasms and men, and he also knows your going to go home to him, randy as fuck and off your tits on daquiris. And plus, evey time you have checked your phone tonight, you turned beet red and quickly put it away. He’s obviously horny for you too. So. For me, darling, for all the girls who cannot go home and shag very handsome actors til they drop dead from orgasming, for all the girls who are going home to snoring boyfriends, please, go and shag the man for fucks sake! And tell him he owes me his first born for getting him laid.” Tessa poined out.

Libby smiled, grabbing her coat and clutch bag.

“You think they’ll mind?” Libby asked, nodding her head to where Jules and Charley were grinding it away to ‘Smack That’ by Eminem.

“You kidding? They’d agree with me.” Tessa grinned. “Now get outta here, go get some with that beast of a man.”

Libby bit her lip, as she sauntered away, yelping when Tessa swatted her ass on the way out.

“Just, tell me one thing…” Tessa asked before she dissapeared.

“Just so I have a frame of reference for ultimate jealousy, how good is he in bed?”

“A lady never shags and tells, but, I will leave you with this. He won’t let me out of bed til atleast tomorrow evening….” Libby whispered into Tessa’s ear.

“Out of my sight.” Tessa dismissed, pretending to be pissed off.

Libby slunk off with a wink.

Time to get herself home and pre-destine her knickers to their ill fate….

 _Gladly with pleasure_ , she thought.


	3. Blindfolds, Games and Party Proposals...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Um. Smut. smut, smut, and oh, some more smut. Pure filth. 
> 
> So enjoy 
> 
> \- Author 
> 
> x

 

 

 

When Libby slunk in her front door, she wasn’t too surprised to find that all the lights downstairs were off, except for the ones that glowed around the finished Xmas tree, and the now simmering embers of the once roaring fire that crackled away In the hearth. She took off her coat, then reached down to slip off her strappy shoes, so that the clacking sound wouldn’t wake the slumbering males in her house. Namely Finley who was softly snoring away on his basket – also known as her armchair – that the dog had commandeered his own. And also her sexy morsel of a hunk who was asleep upstairs. She tiptoed quietly and rather comically on slightly inebriated limbs upstairs, creeping through her house like she was in an episode of Scooby Doo. Finally when she makes it upstairs, she creeps over soft soundless carpets, coming to her bedroom door, which is open, a sliver of dull light stripes across the floor of her landing. She bites her lip in silent lusty tension as the door gives way and her familiar room comes into view, one bedside lamp giving off the only clouded glow of light in the room.

And her bed was horrifyingly empty. No sleeping JJ.

Where the hell was the man-

Her thoughts pause and her spine stiffens as she senses the air shift behind her, a wonderful heat emanating from warmed skin makes her back and neck prickle with nerves. Her hair standing on end as she realises how drunk and turned on she is for the man. She can feel the gooseflesh ripple all over her, she smiles as she still bites her plump lips, knowing her nipples would be puckered tight in arousal, and speaking of which, the latter would have grown substantially more moist in her knickered area. And another thing that makes her start and jump, was the fact that something silky and black now covers right across her eyes as its tied tight across the back of her head.

“Good Evening Darling.”

Comes a silky drawl from behind her, close to her ear as soft fingers reach to gently pull away both of her gold earrings that dripped golden jewels down from her ears to her throat. And the whisper which the handsome voice purred is right by her ear.

Her answer to his greeting is a nervous swallow and a series of skittish gusts of breath that was her attempt at trying to speak.

She can’t see him, but my god, just hearing him and sensing him is more than enough for her. She's damn sure her lust is slicked down the inside of her thigh now, and she nearly jumps out of her skin as his hand barely grazes the inside of her wrist as he tugs away the coat that’s slung over her arm, and the shoes that hang hooked from her fingers. Not a second later she hears them clatter to a heap on her carpet. Forgotten and dispensed with.

Her spine is still fidgeting with tingles and firing white hot nerves. But despite herself, she jumps again as he just speaks again, his hands enclosing around her dress clad hips, but through the thin fabric of which, his hands feel deliciously hot.

“We’re going to play a little game, tonight my dear,” His buttery voice growls into her ear.

She swallows again, but manages to get some strangled verbs also known as words out of her mouth this time.

“In a naughty bedroom fun kind of way, or in a saw movie kind of way?….” She asks with gentle humour. Just so JJ knows that lust doesn’t make her wit depart her.

He chuckles, and the sound that drizzles into her ear is like caramelised honey and audible velvet,

“That first choice seems rather fetching to me.” He lusts, hands going to her zipper and slowly dragging it down so slow, she bursts with impatience as the shriek of the zip is far too glacial paced for her.

A part of her relishes the elation as her dress is pushed from her shoulders to meet hastily with the floor, pooled around her ankles. She hears his breath catch in his throat as he finds the coco la mer underwear which she put on as a pre-planned surprise for him.

It was nude lace, that’s what made it even better for him. It was like she was perfectly naked and wearing nothing at all. The beige lace elegantly pushed up her delicicous breasts, and the slip of a taupe coloured thong which makes her ass look like two elegantly presented round peaches. She may aswell have been stark bollock naked under that dress. His arousal twitches painfully with the erotic thought of her dancing and drunk in this dress, sweat dripping down her naked body underneath, sliding slick from her neck, down the valley of her breasts, sliding over her tummy. Good god, the thought makes him ache for her. So much so, he could almost imagine himself there in that club with her, working up a sweat of his own. Before the sight of her became too much, and he became too hard. He would have to suffice by whisking her away to some dark corner, pressing her up against a wall, and before she could even speak, he would drag her knickers to the side, under whatever evil dress she wore to tantalise him with, and before she could cotton onto his intent, he would’ve slid into her sopping pussy balls deep and fuck her so damn hard, that she forgot how to stand. Or say his name.

That image makes him loose his hold on his dominance and his raging arousal, which is made unarguably coherent to her as he unhooks her dainty bra, letting her fabulous breasts spring free as he discards it, pressing his front to her back so she moans greedily at the feel of his impressive tented cock which was straining for her under, was that a towel she could feel? Damp yet textured fabric against her nearly bare ass. With the bra gone, it leaves her in that tiny slither of a thong that he wants to tear off with his teeth before diving deep into those moist lips of hers and eating her out, and lapping across her beautiful pink clit til she physically cries for him to exercise some mercy upon her.

She bites her lips as his fingers brush against her back as her underwear is disposed of bit by bit. It was painfully ardent her stiff aroused body was begging him to do something to her by this point, the foreplay dragging out so long she wants to cry out to be fucked, licked, or touched even. But she has an uncanny feeling the generous man would give her all three when he saw fit too.

Then, everything stops. All the touches, all the sounds he makes, she can’t even feel him against her back any longer. Which makes her let out an audible groan at the loss.

She hears his breathy chuckle that nearly make her groan in frustration at him being so affable towards her state of drunken want.

“Patience, dearest. You’ll enjoy this, I promise you that…”

She cocks her head to the side, listening out for his aroused voice, huskily thick with desire as he sounds too far away to be granting her any sexual deeds from such a distance.

She wets her lips, and as he had padded around to her front, that sight nearly drives him completely bonkers with lust. Plus the fact that the front scope is astoundly sexy, and even more maddening. Those full breasts tipped with dark and tightly creased nipples, that hourglass body, and the wetness that seeped from her delightful pussy, dripping down the inside of her thigh. The lust of her glistening in the dimmed light. And the fact he could almost smell her wet, sweet hot scent from across where he stood. He couldn’t take this any longer. But still keeping his movements gentle, despite the fact that he wants to drag her to the bed and pound her through til next Tuesday, he restrains himself.

He sinks to one of his knees in front of her, but just far away enough so she doesn’t sense him, but close enough so that when he leans forwards, and plants his hands on her ribs, put clamps his lips around her left breast and sucks, which makes her nearly scream and jump out of her skin.

She throws her head back and has to try hard not to fist her fingers into his hair, but when she feels his teeth come into the fray – scraping over her sensitive skin, her hand flies right up to the back of his hair and tangles desperately in the damp tresses of his silky hair as his tongue lashes wet warmth across her nipple. Which has her whimpering for him. Sighs of pleasure mingled accordingly with his name, and soft little sounds of desire.

And then, before she can completely drench her flimsy knickers, his tongue and lips disappear again. Leaving her head swimming and her body feeling sore and dejected without his smooth lips or tongue on her. she nearly whines again at the absence. But cannot bring herself too, as she startles at the feel of his palms gently stroking down past her ribs and over her belly, still heading south, skimming past her sharp hipbones and coming to rest on the large globes of her full thick thighs that he wants wrapped around him more than he can say. She bites her lip so hard, she’s sure she almost draws blood as his hands guide themselves down to her knickers, as he slides them off her long legs to the floor, joining her discarded dress.

But she swares she must have died and gone to heaven as she feels nothing but pure bliss as his hot wet tongue slides between her legs, parting her dripping lips and flicking against her pearled clit which sends fireworks of pleasure all throughout her body. The pleasure radiating from her groin up from everywhere else, and as he groans with pleasure and hunger, and cups her ass to draw her closer, and draw his tongue deeper into her hot wet chasm, making her thighs clench around his face. She’s pretty sure she screams loudly with pleasure as his tongue strokes deeper and faster as he begins to eat her out hungrily and violently, relentless in the way in which he’s giving her pleasure. Stroking it into her slowly, with every hot stripe of his tongue at a time. And staying so absolutely true to his promise to her from earlier:

_“_ _I’m going to give you an earth shattering orgasm… and I’m going to do it by eating that gorgeous pussy out like I’m on death row and you’re my last meal…”_

And good god, was JJ a man of his words. Libby’s almost certain that she's tugged out half of the hair on his head by this point, the way in which his tongue was slithering in and out of her and the way his lips sucked and lapped at her was more than maddeningly good. She does not know how her legs are holding her up at all, but she can feel her thighs trembling with the sexual onslaught, and as his tongue does a pattern that causes a strangled yelp out of her throat, she finds that her orgasm is going to ricochet through her so violently, she can’t promise JJ that she won’t ejaculate in floods all over him.

“Jay ohmygod…”

She squeaks as she tries to stay upright. Her toes curling as he smiles at that sight, at her trying to hold together her body as he carefully picks it apart. And all it takes is for him to spread her open with his tongue, and lash across her weeping clit three more times, and she absolutely comes undone.

The strangled scream that emanates from her is enough to make his leer against her slick pussy, lips curling up as her toes curl and she pants and shouts her way through the hurricane gale force orgasm that seizes her body, and flashes through her like lightning.

When it finally finishes after leaving her wrung out and spent – but not dried out – but more wet than before as she’s sure the moisture reaches her knees now, and she can’t be sure what percentage of that fluid is her, her orgasm, or caused by JJ’s mouth. But she knows that as her thighs shake like mad, and her brain fighting through hazes of lust, drunken fog and the sound of her heartbeat strangling her ability to hear properly.

Through this, she doesn’t hear JJ stand again, and cross to her, undoing the blindfold that restricted her vision, so when the black silk scarf is removed, she can clap her eyes again on the stunning man who just reduced her to a mushy puddle of a woman.

And imagine her turned on and very rampant horny surprise when she finds he is only glad in a towel. And that the slender toned torso of his glimmers with either sweat or dew from his shower. Now she gathers why his hair felt damp, and why when he pressed up against her ass, she felt the texture of a used wet towel rubbing against her. and now she knows why, and as her dreary eyes sweep over the man in front of her, she wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t have another orgasm just from the sight of him.

Because he was all worked up and by the looks of things, just as horny as she was. (either that or there was a gun in his towel) but his chest was rising quickly as he panted, and his smiling lips were slick with remnants of her moist orgasm, aswell as his cheeks being lightly flushed and his eyes so black with lust it makes her loose her breath and a flush of wetness drip from her already sopping core.

“Hello Baby.” He drawls in that voice that could impregnate inanimate furniture.

Her answer to his greeting is a soft moan before she finds herself enclosed in his arms, as he kisses her with such fevering need that her brain elopes with god only knows what as she is taken into his chest and snogged to within an inch of her sanity.

When he pulls away and looks down at her, he finds her eyes are nothing but thin rings of blue too.

He watches as she bites her lip, and one hand of hers sneaks to his hip and fumbles with the knot on his towel so he looks down to see it slide away from his hips to leave him alarmingly bare, and making it very obvious that he was more than horny for her. She smiles sexily as she takes in the long length of his thick cock, flushed with blood and leaking for her, and her alone.

“Miss me much?”

She asks gently, taking his length into her hand and stroking up and down making a tight fist as his hips tried hard not to drive his cock further into her hand.

“Like you wouldn’t believe…” He rasps slowly.

It was his turn to moan now, a slow and steady “ffuuuucckkkk..” Slips from his lips as she half heartedly strokes him.

His chest is pummelled with more laboured breathing.

“Libby. I need to be inside you. I need to fuck you. Right. Now. This very second.”

He demands through gritted teeth. A sexy growl that makes Libby’s entire being quiver with desire.

“There’s something I need to attend to first…” She smiles sexily, looking like a pure siren, JJ thought.

He was about to throw her body down on the bed and take her right then. If it weren’t for the fact that she dropped to her knees and took the entirety of his cock into her warm wet mouth.

His head drops back as his hand fights to try and not tangle into her soft red hair. Half moans escape from his mouth as she twirls her tongue around his head and sucks him deep. Her mouth had been watering to do this to him ever since her put the blindfold on her. whilst her tongue worked absolute sinful magic on his tip, the other hand slid up and down really making his knees grow weak. She even loved the weight and all male taste of salt of him on her tongue. As her tongue ran along the underside of him, his entire tall frame jumped as one muscled hand cradled the back of her head. He was still so genteel, not doing the clichéd porn star thing of shoving her head forwards onto his cock. But rather gently placing his hand on her head, he just had to touch a part of her. he simply knew he had too.

He nearly cums in her mouth as he looks down and makes eye contact with her as she sucks him into her mouth, so deep he can feel the back of her throat as she sucks him off.

“Libs, you carry on for much longer, and I’ll cum down your throat .”

He warned her in a husky rasp of a sex voice, she gives him one last long drawn out lick along his whole length before she draws herself away, onto two feet. Even being so gentlemanly as to offer her a hand to help her up from the floor. Which she takes, but it appears that the gentleman act was only sticking around for a second or two. Because as soon as she stands, she is knocked unceremoniously back onto her bed with a gasp, as she collapsed onto the sheets. Apparently, the chivalry was just an act. After all, a gentleman is only a patient wolf. Is he not?

As JJ leered, staring her entire body down and up with a flick of his smouldering eyes, Libby has to fight not to scream for him to fuck her.

JJ bit his lip, shaking his head, sucking in a breath.

“You look too good to be true, darling.” He winked.

“Get over here and fuck me, you.” She begs with a sexy smile.

Before she can comprehend it, he tugged her ankle across the bed, bringing her closer, and thrusting himself into her wet core so viscously Libby wonders if she’ll even last very long if he fucks her like this. Which Is also something JJ thinks too, the way he sinks into her, with her hot wet pussy rippling along his plunging cock which makes both of them moan in utter pure ecstasy. Libby’s eyes flutter back into her head with pleasure, and JJ grunts and moans all the way through softly pounding back and forth into Libby so slowly so he’s damn sure she can feel each ravishingly good inch of him.

“Oh god Jay..” She moans in euphoria.

He smiles in hearing her moan his name. Before he pauses slowing in his movements biting his lips as he thought. She opens her eyes through all the bliss of having closed them.

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

“Get on the bed, kneeling, sat up, keep those kneeds spread.” He ordered.

Libby complied, as he pulled out she moaned lightly at the feel of him stimulating every part of her. ecstasy undulating through her sex, especially her clit.

She did as he asked, centre of the bed, sat up, knees spread. And she moans as JJ moves closer behind her, sliding two warm hands across her shoulderblades and up her neck, his lips ghosting over her ears, throat and shoulders. Over every single one of her hotspots was now being caressed by him, and its so much, that it makes her laugh ghost into a turned on smile.

“Ohhh, you look even sexier like this…”

He smiles against her neck, sucking a deep love mark onto her pale skin as he slid into her once again as they both moaned, JJ’s lips gusting a hot breath over her shoulder in a cascade of hot air as she shivered with pleasure.

“Oh god. I will never not love thrusting into this sweet hot pussy of yours, Libs.” He grunted, Libby smiled, moaning as she managed to nod in agreement.

It was doubly blissful, as this position JJ so favoured allowed JJ premium access to every single part of the woman in front of him. One of his hands snuck to her hip, holding her close as he pulled backwards and forwards in and out of her slowly. His mouth spends a long stretch of time sucking marks onto her shoulder, whilst the other palms a full breast in his grip. The resulting pleasure that pounds through her is almost unbelievable.

Her breath and mind seem to be deserting her already, and the flares of desire and the tell tale throb of lust that courses through her tells her that she is nearly close to cumming. But as her hips undulate back and fourth against JJ’s, she finds that she doesn’t want to come just yet, because the pleasure and the things he’s doing to her are just too good to miss. She tries biting her lips to stem the moans that are rupturing from her lips. But it does nothing to stop her, as JJ notices.

“Stop biting those lips Turner. I want you to moan for me when I make you cum.”

He snarls against her neck as he bites down on her creamy skin and doubles his pace. Pounding the ecstasy into her.

Her resulting moans and pleasure means that she can’t hold off on cumming. And clearly, neither can he.

“Oh, Jay, I’m going to cum…” She cries

“Oh god, me too…”

He moans, so much so, she can feel his length as her throbs and twitches inside of her, and what’s really driving him mad is the way her muscles clamp down on him like a hot wet vice.

Before she can stop herself, screams and shouts tumble from her lips as her eyes flutter back into her head. And she was too wrapped up in ejaculating all over the inside of her thighs and all over JJ’s cock to notice.

“ _Oh FUCK!”_

JJ curses as he cums too, hard hot and fast, shooting deep into her as he rides his orgasm out, emptying into her as he moans through the onslaught.

She has to concentrate on drawing in deep breaths and stopping her thighs from shaking to feel JJ pull his still hard length from her, slicking over all her sensitive spots and igniting a small moan of lust from her lips. Her head was positively foggy and she felt particularly light-headed from the lack of being able to breath through his excessively good fuck.

The both of them manage to turn onto their backs and lie naked together side by side over the partially soggy sheets. Both their chests pounding as they pant deep breaths to get some much air back into their lungs.

“Good for you?” JJ asked, as they both stared at her ceiling. His voice a raspy, sex strained cry.

“Shut up.” Libby congratulated. Slapping him half heartedly on the chest.

“You started it.” He teased.

“How? How did I start it?” Libby asked.

“Leaving the house in that sexy dress. Off to go and get drunk and undoubtedly talk about me to your friends…”

Libby smiled. He was uncannily right.

“We didn’t just talk about you.” She insisted.

“What did you talk about?”

“The usual. Shoes. The inability of men to commit. Lingerie, multiple orgasms.” Libby teased.

JJ chuckled, showing the brilliance of his perfect line of perfect white teeth as he laughed. The back of his knuckles stroking across Libby’s stomach.

“You _sooo_ talked about me.” JJ laughed. Turning his head to wink at her.

“They congratulated me on my choice.” Libby smiled.

“I do that to myself every day.” JJ confirmed, squeezing her hand.

“You’re cute.” She offered, leaning over to kiss him.

“No more sex tonight you beast.” JJ said jokingly after she pulled away from the light kiss.

“Would you settle for some spooning? Minus penetration..” Libby asked.

“Sounds reasonable.” JJ smiled as he kissed her back.

And so they folded themselves under the thick warm duvet and switched out the light to try and get some sleep.

“Hey. You know what we should do?” JJ said suddenly after a moment or two of silence.

“What's that?” Libby asked, eyes closed as JJ’s arms closed around her middle.

“A Christmas Party. For all our friends, here. Next week before Xmas.” JJ smiled.

Libby opened her eyes.

“That does sound sort of fun.”

“Yeah, you can invite Tessa, Jules, Charley, Tom. All the girls.”

“Tom counts as a girl?” Libby asked with hilarity.

“Well, he is unfairly pretty.” JJ reasoned.

“So are you.” Libby chuckled.

“Stop, you’ll make me blush.” JJ gushed.

There was a long pause before Libby spoke again.

“A party sounds nice. I’ll cook. And I may let you DJ.”

“What an honour.” He smiled.

“Certainly is.” She offered.

“Get some sleep sexy bum, I may have plans for you in the morning.” JJ commanded, slapping her hip softly as he couldn’t reach her ass.

“Naughty bedroom plans again?” Libby asked.

“How well you know me…” JJ laughed. Kissing her neck as they drifted off.

 

~

 

 

 

 


	4. Want of a Red Rose...

   

 

 

(GIF's not mine, credit goes to JJ one belongs to justjjfield and the other to dracorum..)

 

Ugh. that smile should be made illegal. Its just too dangerous...

 

Libby found – the next morning – one of the perks of being in a relationship. Was the lovely jolly sense that your house never quite felt as empty as it previously did. She preferred in that instance to fill her empty rooms with music. Yet, with the wondrous man that was her Mr JJ Fields taking up occupancy of lover in her house, and in her life. She came to find indeed that It was a nice stirring feeling in the pit of her tummy that swirled about when she remembered she was sharing herself and her space with the man.

Which was what she felt when she sauntered downstairs and found him, sans trousers, in grey boxers and barefoot donning bright yellow marigolds as he scrubbed a plate and shimmied about letting his deep voice reach a new octave that ought to be achieved as he sang along to maroon 5’s ‘makes me wonder’ on the radio.

On his upper half he sported his yonks old Bowie t – shirt that she fondly remembered she and him had grabbed matching pairs of as they saw Bowie live in concert when they first started off as a couple. They had VIP tickets, and got to meet him afterwards. Both grinning at the man like they were simple idiots when they shook his hand, proclaiming they were his single biggest fans in their matching shirts. Then again, not many could boast they hung out for half an hour with David Bowie, drank Bollinger champagne, and talked avidly about the most recent celeb gossip like they were three old biddies under driers at a hair salon. He had on the suprising ensemble as he washed up a mug, his back to Libby, but flashing her a quick smile as she lumbered into the kitchen behind him. She was on a quest for tea, thankfully seeing her cold house had been defrosted by the fact that he had lit a roaring fire in the lounge, which Finley was stretched out in front of. She smiled feeling festive seeing the nearly complete tree hung with red and white striped candy canes.

Libby had pulled on her striped bedshorts and her ‘Cup of Tea Father?’ T – shirt inspired by the Father Ted TV series. (her oft wearing it, and her always hungering penchant for tea led to Hiddles giving her the nickname of Mrs Doyle more than once) and was now lumbering like a caffience styled addict with a serious addiction problem coordinating perfectly with her backcombed red nest resting atop her scalp. shuffling to the kettle to click it on, with the goal of caffeinated tea being her one and only need and addiction. Or failing that, snort a line or an Intro-Venus drip to get it into her. No one came between her and her kettle in the morning - if they knew what was wise and good for them- A couple of unfortunate Uni flat mates and boyfriends had found that out the hard way. (The history of such was an ugly matter of bruising and one fairly severe sprained wrist being the casualty of her not being allowed tea instantly first thing in the morning)

Only she got there to see a mug of tea siwrling steam was already waiting for her. She blinked stray hair out of her eyes and made a long appreciative _“MMMhhhmmmmm”_ sound as she drunk the first few mouthfuls and offset the small niggling headache from her drunken stupour the night before.

“Some lucky woman has you remarkably well trained.” She smiled, slipping past him and pinching his bum as she went into the fridge to get a plain marmalade for her toast. But lo and behold as she rounded his stupidly tall figure, and came to the oven, she saw a steaming omelette crammed with tomatoes, cheese, bacon and worchester sauce.

Her mouth gaped as she pointed to it, begging a large smirk to bubble up to his ridiculously handsome lips.

“Makes Tea. Makes omlettes. Manages to look sexy in marigolds. Good sir, If you weren’t so charming and currently shagging me, I’d have to hate you for that level of perfection.” She thanked in her traditional backwards witty ‘Libby’ styled way, JJ thought to himself.

“You are, welcome…” He smiled, offering her a long tall glass of something chilled and fragrant as she sat down with her Omlette and her tea opposite him from the sink at the breskfast bar.

“Fresh Mango Juice, to help aid the hangover…”

He winked. Libby would’ve jumped him for that had her mouth not been crammed full of egg and cheese, and she wasn’t so sure there was a small gobbet of cheese dribbled down her chin. JJ laughed at her face as she smiled with her cheeks full looking like a redheaded little hamster. To him it must’ve been akin to the sociable and granduer likes of Oscar Wilde living with Hilda Ogdon. Libby thought bleakly. She was not destined to ever be the elegant one in this relationship.

After she had swallowed, she took a petite sip of the juice and looked questioningly at him.

“I didn’t have mango’s in the house.” She asked.

“That little dilemna was easily solved by myself buying some.” He parried back.

“You’ve been shopping this morning?”

“Yeah. After I took Finley for a run along the Cheyne Walk.”

“You took the dog and had time to spare to shop?” she repeated flatly.

“I had 45 minutes to wait for the washing to finish.”

“You had an entire week before I even rolled out of bed..” Libby exclaimed amazedly.

JJ chuckled. Stripping of the gloves and unplugging the sink to let the water flow away.

“Oh! and that whole ozone layer hole problem sorted aswell.” He japed.

“Sort out your priorities Fields, what about peace in the middle east?” She asked with a teasing smiled.

“I’ll get right on that after breakfast.” He explained. “Or if I have a few minutes here and there to spare before lunch.”

He spoke Bopping her on the nose and leaning in for a quick peck on the cheeks, before he coordinated his long limbs to fold onto the bar stool next to hers, as he flipped open the paper and began to read.

“Theres that typical western interference spirit.” Libby mock cried, punching her arm in the air. He chuckled at that. 

They sat in blissful quiet for a while, JJ occasionally opened his mouth like a goldfish, at which point Libby would spoon in some Omelette for him as he turned pages.

“Have you realised we’ve escalated from hot young shagging couple to married for forty years?” Libby asked as she smiled and used her thumb to swipe away the crumb of bacon on his lower lip.

JJ laughed as he raised his coffee mug to his lips, taking a sip.

“It just mean’s we’re comfortable around each other.” He beamed. Going back to reading the paper. Smiling genteely

Libby put her elbow on the table to balance her chin and watch him.

“You’re doing that thing again darling.” JJ spoke after a long pause.

“Hmm?” Libby smiled, enraptured looking at him.

He was focusing on the paper in front of him as he spoke,

“That thing where you smile like a loon at me when you think I can’t or shall fail to see you doing it.” He smiled, giving her a stern but forgiving look as he folded and turned the page.

“You’re pretty.” She stated out loud, looking as giggly and as silly as a schoolgirl.

He sighed, folding up his paper. And Libby barely had time to draw breath before his hand dwarfed the back of her neck and reeled her close to give her a gravity defying quick snog.

Needless to say, they both pulled away breathless, and a little bit horny.

“Satisfied?” He asked, twirling strays of hair out of her eyes.

She smiled and nodded.

“Very.” She beamed.

“Is that all you were after? Clamouring for a kiss?” He asked.

“Can you blame me?” She flirted back.

He rolled his eyes and laughed.

 

~

 

A little while after breakfast. And the happpily-we’re-acting-like-we’ve-been-married-for-nigh-on-forty-years couple were upstairs getting themselves dressed for their busy working day. Which meant JJ was running twelve minutes late as he tied his shoes sat on the edge of her bed with his shirt flapping about showing off his toned abs that Libby could grate cheese off of. And this meant that Libby was running behind herself, because one she was distracted by him as he stood in her bathroom shaving and trimming that five star looking stubble that managed to be sexy on him, clad in just a towel as she was doing make up adjacent to him. Spying each other from opposite the landing with the floor putting a good few paces between them. Not that she would ever admit, but the sight of that gleaming chest from the steam of the hot water, and the sight of that great ass and the rather nicely endowed _‘package’_ that hung between his legs under a thin towel was enough to distract her as she sat at her dresser, nearly taking her eye out with a mascara brush more than once.

And second (because the first was extensive and she rather forgot herself a little on the point about the outline of JJ’s remarkable body and said _package_ ) she was faffing about in her wardrobe in only a black high waisted pencil skirt and a bra, with an unmatched different shoe on each foot. One higher than the other, which meant she was tottering around with a limp as she crossed to her mirror and help up a forest green cardigan which would go with the shoe on her left foot. (Manolo’s, bronzed metallic looking chunky heels) but then she would hold up a dark indigo silk blouse to match her shoes on her right (Laboutin’s, navy mesh covering half her feet, thinner daintier heels) eventually, her brain threw a hissy fit and she turned to JJ for advice. Who as she turned to him, was eyeing her up sexily as he sat on the bed.

She pointed a stern finger at him from behind the cardigan.

“No! No time for the smouldering look! It’s quarter past eight, you should’ve been out the door ten minutes ago Jay. And I’m running behind for my marketing meeting with my accountant!!” She clamoured as he rose to his feet and stalked across to her, that sexy determined look not having gone as he snatched her up from the floor into his arms woth a cry of;

“..You look incredible, I must have you now.” He demanded, hoisting her into his arms as he twirled her onto the bed in a firemans carry and chucking her onto the made covers, mussing them up as he mussed her hair and kissed her deeply on the lips, covering her body by pinning her there with his, she smiled and laughed into his lips. He would forever hold the capacity to make her feel like a silly willed girl at any time.

“Wouldn’t you rather I kiss you senseless than give comments on your wardrobe?”

She smiled. Saying an out loud no as she nodded her head for yes.

“Thought so.” He admired her half naked form.

“Blouse or cardigan?” She asked with trepedation.

“Cardigan is a bit too sixties. I just imagine you in a tight jumper, with pearls around your neck sat at a typewriter. I’d Wear the blouse if I were you, its got a sexy neckline for you to show off those fabulous breasts.” He winked.

“Gay at the start of that scentence, but heavens knows you pulled it back for the end.” She exclaimed, throwing the cardigan back into her jumper drawer as she tugged on the blouse, and pulled to buttons together to do it up. Stood in front of the mirror to check that the reflection was pleasing before she dived back in for her other correct shoe.

“Hey, should we go out to dinner tonight?” JJ asked her as she stumbled out with the correct shoe.

“Sure. What are you in the mood for? If it’s a busy place I’ll phone ahead and make a reservation if you like…” she offered, sliding in her earrings, whilst grabbing her long coat, grey scarf and work satchel.

JJ thought as he tucked in his shirt tails to his trousers and patted some cologne onto his neck and cheeks. Ruffling a hand through his barely styled hair that still managed to look great. And as she said earlier, if she wasn’t shagging him, and he was a woman, she’d be quite envious.

Libby took one final opportunity at a touch up in the mirror fixing stray hair and errors to her appearance as he slid on his jacket, scarf and coat too. Libby saw the telltale zip up leather book holder which he kept his recent scripts stored in, and slung it under his arm as they started down the stairs.

“Well, it depends what you are in the mood for my darling…” He supposed, turning to face her as they walked together down the stairs and into the hallway. Scooping up their respective keys and saying their separate goodbyes to Finley. Who was happily snoozing.

They slid out of the front door. Leaving the radio on for Finley to fall asleep too. Which led to one last quip before they got out of the house, in which Billy Ocean sang ‘Carribean Queen' from the radio in the kitchen. And Libby enquired if the dog was truly an Ocean fan. To which he replied Fin was much more a ‘Bee Gees’ dog thanks to JJ curbing his taste and favourites by influence of his own musical tastes.

Libby shivered in the frigid December air as she got outside. Locking her door, and taking JJ’s offered arm before they walked arm in arm up the little garden path, and out across the cobblestoned courtyard to the road. Where morning in London was busy carrying on without the two lovers.

“How about Chinese Tonight?” JJ asked.

“Chinese.” Libby smiled in confirmation as they got to a point on the pavement where their days would lead different paths, next to a street stall selling flowers that by the looks of things, had just been delivered.

“See you at half seven? Rainbow House?”

He asked. Referring to their posh but dead cheap chinese which was just one street across from Libby’s place. Called the Rainbow House. Libby had known the entire staff there since she first came to London, and now she was a regular and a favourite customer.

“Half seven.” She concluded. With a happy smile.

“May I ask why you have a sudden urge to take me out this evening?” she asked politely

As they stopped JJ gave her a sly smile. Before he dug into his pocket, and dug out a singular coin, and tossed the pound to the flower stall seller. Who caught it, as JJ reached over and plucked a single red rose from the bucket and handed it to her. Thanking the now blushing vender girl with a huge debonair finest rakish rogue style wink.

He handed Libby the rose, which she took with her leather gloved hand, smelling the sweet fragrance of it before he tugged her close and kissed her fully on the lips before he pulled away, intending on his path towards the tube station down the road after he spoke a simple sentence that warmed her heart.

“Do I need a hard reason to wine and dine my lovely woman? I think not.”

He smiled as he moved away as Libby stayed where she was to hail a cab from the main road.

Libby smiled.

“Have a good day you old rogue. See you at half seven.” She called quietly after him.

He flashed a quick wink and smacked a puckering kiss in her direction that made her go fluttery. Before she stuck her hand out and hailed a cab that was roaring past her on the road, and he turned away down the street with a jaunt in his step. 

Not minutes later as JJ neared the tube station. His phone went off and he pulled it out, already half knowing who the text was from.

_‘I have read all that wise men have written, all the secrets of Philosophy are mine, Yet, For want of a red rose, my life is made wretched,’ wrote oscar. Yet, for want of a red rose. I find myself happily courted out to dinner tonight. Oscar’s probably turning in his grave as we speak. I have to say, its an entertaiing prospect. No sense of lovers decorum these writers, ey?_

_Romantacist niave fools if you ask me. Even Oscars artful writing doesn’t hold a candle to your amorous attentions Mr Fields._

_I consider myself most throughly wooed._

_LT x_


	5. Good or Bad Fortune?

 

True enough, the day passed sluggishly enough for the both of them. Libby managed to be the first one to breeze home through the door and into the warmth. Glad to shut out the cold. She welcomed Finley with a happy fuss, as he bounded to the door to greet her. Libby rubbed his ears and crouched to tickle his furry tummy. Before she looked at her clock in the lounge to see that it was quarter past seven already. She hurdled over Finely as he trotted off back to reclaim his armchair. As she rushed upstairs, madly pulling off her clothes as she went. When she got to her bedroom, she dumped her clothes into a pile on the sofa and scampered half naked to her wardrobe to pull on something more casual and comfortable rather than her work wear. This included a black cardigan with various black rhinestones adorning the shoulders, she left a couple of top buttons of the cardigan undone for JJ’s benefit, a ‘treat’ for the man if you will. And she teemed this with a pair of skin tight leather look jeans which she knew made her ass look good, also quickly shuffling a hand through her rumpled red hair and decided to leave it loose as she tugged on a leather jacket and some black biker docs. After realising she was now truly tardy to their seven thirty ren dez vous, she spritzed perfume over herself and ran out of the house, patting Finley as she scampered out, locking the door after her, walking across the courtyard as she madly managed to wrap a large black and red tartan scarf around her neck, trapping a few red curls trapped in the wool, the rest free and fluttering in the cool breeze as she darted across the road and made her way hastily down the street and round the corner, seeing Rainbow House not a few yards away. She made her way quickly through the door, peering through the large glass front of the place to see it wasn’t at all busy. A couple of other people littered about the place, but one singular man stole all her attention. Sat with his back to her as she walked in. even the back of the man was enthralling, and made her heart skip a few beats.

She just smiled, her body knew no other reaction than to tingle and warm at his presence. Just admiring how he was just sat there, looking at that gloriously perfect ass under his jeans – clearly he had rushed home and changed too – as he now wore his expensive looking matchstick jeans that made him look as long legged as a cricket. And a very fine navy wool jumper with a slouchy wrinkled white shirt underneath, rolled up to his elbows as he relaxed and read through the menu, whilst bringing a bottle of beer to his lips and swigging a gulp down. It sounded mad, but if it was possible to be in love with the back of someone just as much as you were the front, then Libby was utterly stuck. Upwards from the glorious ass, it only got better. From a trim lower back, his muscular torso made his shoulder and back flare out wide with sinewy but athletic muscles concealed under his skin. And he possibly had the sexiest nape she had ever seen. Slim and leading up to his chestnut coloured hair that was swept with curls that felt heavenly when she dragged her fingers through his thick tresses. Before she got too carried away with visually deducing his anatomical structure. She saunters through the door and is loudly welcomed from both the grey metal open kitchen at the back, through which she sees many familiar faces who grin and shout out a ‘hello’ to her in Chinese. And her favourite friend Joey, welcomes her from the waiters podium by the door. She smiles as he clasps her into a hug.

“ _Nín hǎo_ Joey…” She speaks easily as he welcomes her right back.

“Nín hǎo, my Libby _. Liánhu._ We haven’t seen you in ages.”

Libby loved Joey, but even she couldn’t tell the polite young man that recently she had been replacing takeaway food with bouts of great addictive sex with JJ.

“Well. I’m here now, and starving. And JJ’s waiting for me…” She winked, nodding to the man who turned and smiled that she was here at last. Shooting her a smile that made her stomach go all hot like melting butter.

Joey turned and put two and two together.

“He said he was waiting for a special lady. How right he was. _Zhùhè_. My congratulations to you both.” He said respectfully, bowing his head.

Libby bowed hers back, and spoke politely back.

“Xièxiè, Joey.” She patted his arm, moving past as two more people walked in behind her as she sauntered over

She folded herself onto the bench opposite him, but not before she stood up and leaed in for a quick kiss.

“Hello.” He purred happily, now that she was here.

“Hello yourself.” She flirted back, folding her coat off and sitting down. It would have taken a fool not to notice how JJ’s eyes gleamed at the sight of her cleavage in the unbuttoned gap of her cardigan.

“Long day?” She asked as he took another swig of his beer.

“A boring long day.” He gruffed.

“A read-through for a complex part and then a highly uneventful lunch out with my agent. Well. Pales in comparison to taking my lady out for dinner.” He winked, sliding his hand across the table to scoop her up, and twine his long fingers through her own. Which made her smile.

Her smile was like pure honey gold to him. He loved that smile.

“Can you say smooth talker…” Libby praised him rhetorically. Smiling wider.

JJ tilted his head in a confirming manner.

“My native American name, I believe.” He japed.

Libby laughed as Joey brought her over a beer, and took their starter order of springs rolls, duck seaweed rolls, and chicken satay.

When they were left alone again, JJ parroted Libby’s question right back to her.

“…And your day? Eventful or mundane? Where does it lie on the spectrum?”

“I’m on track for another illustrated book to come out next year…” she breezed confidently.

“My well done to you, you sexy brainy thing.” He congratulated.

“Xièxiè.” She thanked him in Chinese.

“You’re making me feel truly like an ugly English man here, you bilingual genius.”

Libby laughed. “I could teach you?” she offered.

A cheeky look crossed JJ’s face then.

“a student teacher relationship, how kinky.” He purred, waggling his eyebrows at her, as she took a mouthful of beer and shook her head, rolling her eyes.

“Trust you to turn a genuine and un-crude offer into a sex game.” She said quietly, leaning forwards to get closer to where he leant forwards to her across the table.

“Going to make me work afterschool hours for extra credit, Headmistress Turner?” He asked, dropping his voice to an octave that could only be described as dangerously sexy. His eyes danced with naughty mirth.

“Am I going to be sent to your office to find you wearing naught but sexy knickers, glasses and stockings, and holding a board pointer?” he asked in hushed sexy tones. Biting his lip in a mock sexy manner.

Libby raised her brows.

“You’ve given this a remarkable amount of thought for someone who brought up the idea two seconds ago.” She chided sarcastically.

“Are you going to bring back capital punishment mistress? I may need a good _spanking_ …” He hushed into her ear, whispering filth until she turned bright red from embarrassment.

Libby chuckled and turned red behind her hand. Giggling through her words as she spoke.

“Shut up you moron.” She laughed.

“Just testing your limits.” He said easily, swigging more beer as she smiled and chuckled at her.

“Scoundrel.” She chided.

“Saucepot.” He flirted back to her.

“I’m moving the topic of conversation somewhere safer now..” Libby explained. Cheeks flushing from a scarlet to a dusted pink now.

“Wise.” He offered.

“Who are we inviting to this Christmas Party? Because I was thinking, tomorrow, I could draw up some invites. And send them off, make them all festive and fun.” Libby suggested.

“Sounds great.” JJ offered.

“May I ask?” she began

“… Yes. I still do truly believe that my letter from Hogwarts got lost in the post many years ago.” He sighed sadly.

Libby ignored his quip. But was unable to hide her smile. Ever the Joker was he…

“Why did you suggest I have this party?” she asked curiously.

He shuffled, peeling the beer label off his bottle, Libby just knew that when he got uncomfortable and fidgety like this, then a sincere answer was bound to follow shortly.

“Well. Frankly, after the way you’ve been treated this year, I just thought you could use a little end of the year perk before you go home to face your houseful of bickering relatives and the hundreds of awful blind date offers.” He said carefully, proving her had given the matter a lot of thought.

“I don’t know, I just thought that after your shitty few months of being treated appallingly by Ben, that some booze, good food, better friends and some crappy Christmas music might bring your year to a better close than it started out as.” He offered politely.

Libby looked thoroughly heartened, JJ genuinely would always hold the ability to leave her tender, feeling very loved and speechless all at once. True, the aftermath of the Benedict split months thereafter had been rough and pretty damn bloody awful for her. But lo and behold here came one man who wanted to heal her and make her loved, and better.

“Well. I’m not taking my cousins up on a single awful horrible date, They couldn’t ever hold a candle to the man who had my heart right now.” She spoke sappily. But she didn’t care. She meant it.

He smiled. “Just a thought.”

She tangled her hand with his and squeezed tight.

“Anyone you want to invite?” Libby asked.

JJ shook his head, gods, he was so affable too. She loved that.

“I’ll be happy catching up with your bunch. The girls, Tom. Martin, Adam. And anyway, you forget we run in the similar social circles..”

“Well, We used too. Before… well.” Libby mumbled in a self explanatory manner. They used to until one cold night in September. Many months ago. On the night of the ill fated engagement party.

“I Just thought you deserved to have a pleasant night of fun is all.” JJ demanded, squeezing her hand as Joey brought their starters over.

“Lord knows I love that feature about you.” She beamed

“You better.” He winked teasingly.

Libby into the hot spring rolls with sweet chilli sauce.

 

~

 

They had just ordered their mains and had discussed everything from politics, to arguing about whose turn it was to do the ironing, who had to be allocated in charge of music for the party. Aswell as who was the more handsome Australian. Chris Hemsworth or Hugh Jackman. When their menus were cleared off, JJ found himself voicing something that he had never ventured into asking before, but he was curious…

“By the way, seeing as we are going to end up arguing over who is more handsome anyway, and as I am positively curious. You never did disclose to me the full list of your dating history… I’m rather keen to know…”

Libby, who had been taking a long swig of her second beer, and nearly spat it out when she heard him speak.

“Excuse me?” she asked with a cheeky smile.

“All the men, you’ve dated. I want to know…” he said wickedly with a gleam in his eyes.

Libby gave a small scoff, staring at her beer bottle for a moment, smiling. Before averting her eyes up to him once more.

“You really care to know?...” she asked with concealed humour.

“Definitely..” He urged, leaning forwards with a debonair smile. Marbled blue and grey eyes shining with lusty interest.

“Well.” She began, clearing her throat.

“The first, my first ever proper boyfriend, unless you can count Nick Drayson at a sixth form social buying me a jagerbomb then shoving his tongue down my throat in some dark club corner, then my first would have been Tom. I’m glad he was, because he was a wonderful first boyfriend, everything a girl could have ever wanted. Attentive. Amazingly wonderful. Wonderful (ly) huge lover.”

“More of a ‘hello Tommy Lee’, huh?” JJ winked, looking enthralled by her words.

Libby smiled. Trying not to look crude.

“Let me just say that his fandom hype about the apptly named ‘hiddlesconda’ is, remarkably and truly correct…” Libby uttered shyly.

JJ recognised the gleam in her eyes.

“You did love him a lot didn’t you?”

Libby fiddled nervously with the stem of her beer bottle, looking very sincere and humble.

“Gods Yes. At the time, yeah I did. But I’m relieved that the lustful side of our friendship was heavily outweighed by the friends aspect of it now. Tom is he’s very astute, and its very easy to love him. I’m glad we remained friends. We were no more than kids at University. Kids battling little money and sleep, way too much booze, bloody tough Uni exams. Also with the added measure of listening flatmates and monstrous hangovers.”

JJ smiled across to her.

“And the next guy?” He asked with impatience.

Libby had to think for a moment.

“The fact that its plural in regards to men on my list is now forcing me to re-examine my title. The word slut springs to mind.” Libby mumbled sadly.

“Well your not. Having five men in your bed at once calls for he slut title. Having five men over a number of years is, enjoying and making the most of what the opposite sex has to offer.”

“That’s very eloquent of you..” she smiled.

“Continue please…” He prompted.

“Let me see, after Tom. No – one for a while whilst I moved from Manchester back to London. But, then oh, I think It was Scott…” Libby recalled.

“My first and last one and only one night stand after moving to London. So, very little to tell really, Australian. Shaggy blonde surfer hair, great kisser, nice muscles. Decent shag. Made me scrambled eggs for breakfast the morning after. Nice man.” She nodded.

 

“Your passing ship in the night man?” JJ asked.

“Yeah, I heard a while ago that he now owns an Aussie bar on Littermore road.”

“Would you get discount on drinks if you go there?” JJ wondered cheekily.

“I’ve never dared.” She declared innocently.

“Well, you’re not a daredevil…” He assumed.

“Next guy?” Libby asked him.

“Please, do go on..” He drawled.

“My Gap year men.” Libby smiled.

“Plural?” He smiled wolfishly.

“All two of them.”

“You took your gap year after Uni?” JJ asked.

Libby nodded.

“I was so glad to get away from school, I ferried myself away from Sixth form straight to a University Campus. I didn’t want to hang around whilst all my friends went off to get drunk and start their twenties. So I promised myself to get a shitty job in a bar during Uni classes, to save up some measly funds for travelling.”

“And where did your measly funds get you?” He asked.

“Enough to get me to Paris. In an apprenticeship in one of Frances most famous Pâtisseries

“Impressive…” JJ smiled.

“The man was one Jean Pierre.”

“The famous author?” JJ asked.

Libby raised her brows and smiled.

“So all French men really are called that?” He asked sounding surprised.

“A French romanticist poet. Very sporadic temperament. And, not to be easily parted with. He’s still single to this day. Lusts after me like a puppy when he’s in London. Wrote a sex novel about me and the six months we were together. He had a very tough time letting me go back home to England. But hey, he’s french. He could never part with his ‘L’ame Soeur’..” She spoke in careless french.

“Which was?” JJ asked, understanding the french for Soulmate.

“The City of Paris. He adored it.”

“He also had plenty of stamina. In the _boudoir_ , so to speak.” She added.

“Well. He is french. They are all famed for being very durable lovers.” He smirked.

“The second Gap Yah man?” He spoke jokingly.

“Leonardo..”

“Di Caprio?” he asked stunned.

Libby smiled.

“Not quite my bag…” She smirked.

“Leonardo Caravaggiono.” She clarified.

“Thank god you didn’t marry him, I’d die of exhaustion carting that name around with me.” He japed.

She smiled before she carried on.

“I met him travelling in Rome. The Italian Stallion in a most literal sense. He still writes me letters now and then. He married a young Italian Girl called Gabriella three years ago. A family friend of his fathers. But what always makes me laugh is that his grandmother writes me letters too, and she cannot stand his new wife. But she was the sweet old lady who taught me everything I know about cooking Italian food. I was only with him for five months, yet she still prefers me over his new wife, its very complimentary of her. according to him, she brings me up constantly.”

“Have you in fact conquered hearts all the way from here to Timbuktu?” JJ asked.

“Not quite. I’m working on it one man at a time.” She beamed. “Its coming along slowly.”

“Any more?” He asked with sarcasm.

She rolled her eyes back in her head. Thinking for a second.

“One more…”

“Who?who?” JJ clamoured.

“A celeb actually…” She granted him. So his statement of Leonardo Dicaprio was atleast half right.

“Paul Bettany.”

“Seriously? I know Paul. He’s a great guy. You old horn dog…” He smiled.

Libby rolled her eyes.

“Dated for a year. I felt like such an adolescent girl, I always had such a huge crush on him. But to my extreme surprise, he liked me back as much as I did him…”

“Don’t be bashful. Have you seen that delicious ass you have on you, Turner…”

She smiled before she continued.

“I remember bumping into him at a swanky event. I was getting his autograph for my mother because she loved the Dan Brown Film Adaptation of the Da Vinci Code which he was in. And I gave him a napkin, and asked. And I remember he looked at me for one long second. And when he gave it back to me, he had written an autograph and a message for my mother. But on the back, I can remember it vividly, he wrote: His number, 07767187452. I remember it off by heart. And the underneath he put;

_And please pass this along, for you have an extremely beautiful daughter, and with your permission I’d quite like to take her on a date…”_

“Smooth Guy. You have to give him that.” He remarked, looking impressed.

“Well. You know what he’s like, very quiet, refined. Astute. Decent man, very private. Like something out of an old world shakespearian play. He had that spark of passion that I adored, when it surfaced. He was great fun to be with. A proper gentleman.” She finished.

“Is that all? Does this endless list of love conclude at last?” He winced.

“Yes it does. But there is just the matter of a repetitive fling.”

JJ tilted his head, looking lost.

“Who could that be?”

She smiled.

“I’m looking at him.” She said obviously.

JJ looked sheepish at not having realised he took up two spaces in her History of Love

Luckily, Libby had finished her recalling her list of peccadilloes, when Joey brought them over their mains. Which meant Libby had gone to her usual order of chicken ramen noodle soup with sweet chilli. And JJ had gone for a black bean beef noodle dish with dumplings. Both of them eagerly tucking in. Libby laughing and dabbing at JJ’s nose when he would suck noodles into his mouth one at a time and getting black bean sauce splattered all over his nose. They laughed and smiled like an old married couple.

Which, to his complete and utter misfortune, is exactly the humble and happy spectacle that Benedict unfortunately claps his miserable eyes upon when he saunters in to the place from the cold night air, to pick up his takeaway order for one. Rachel was out for a drink with a colleague. And had just texted to say she was crashing on Lola’s sofa for the night rather than coming home. So that, plus his long boring read through, and his already sour mood didn’t help. He was welcomed by Joey who chatted animatedly to him.

“Hi joey. My usual order, just for one. Should be under the name ‘Ben’ “ he clarified in a small unhappy voice.

“I’ll make sure you have extra good fortune in your cookie, Ben. I think you may need it.” He smiled. Seeing the man’s mood was not good.

But it was even more not good when Joey scurried off to the kitchen. And he catches a couple, looking very much enamoured, sharing a meal in the middle of the restaurant. Libby just happens to look over JJ’s shoulders and catches his eyes. And her expression doesn’t quite know where to rest. She swallows, suddenly her mouth feeling dry and her tummy tight and uncomfortable.

He had missed those enchanting baby blues of hers more than he could say. And it hurt deep In his chest that he was being looked at like that from her.

Ben diverts his eyes, looking down at his feet with a pained expression of sheepish guilt and subdued anger. Just in time too, as Joey walks back over, and handed him his bag of food.

“Takeaway for one, Enjoy.” Joey stated.

Libby was fortunate enough in the partially empty restaurant to hear what Joey said. Looking said for him.

But seeing as that wasn’t what he needed, ben stalked off as fast as his legs could carry him. Back home to his cold dark empty flat, where the image of her eyes in his mind would be enough to torture him all evening through.

 


	6. Misery...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short, and a little sad....

 

Benedict trudged wearily up the stairs and into his dark, cold and empty flat. Letting himself in he slid through the door and slammed it shut with his foot.

If it was possible he heard his heart sigh with agony and gloom upon seeing his flat. More recently he had stopped thinking of it as his. It had turned more into Rachels abode than his own, plus the fact it was littered with their wedding fodder. Invites, fabric samples, vases of ‘mock’ bouquets everywhere, of which Rachel was ordering vast amounts of. Aswell as table linens, china, cutlery, glasses, fine bone china teacups. Insisting that she needed to ‘ _spend big to look big.’_ Subsequently putting all the vast sums of money she managed to tot up, on Ben’s credit card.

With all the wedding cost and items taking up space, aswell as Rachels taste in fabrics and decoration slowly invading everything in his path. He in fact no longer felt that this was his home at all. She insisted she was turning into ‘theirs’ but all he really saw it as was ‘ _hers’_.

 _Her_ pillows on the sofa _. Her_ curtains framing the windows. _Her_ flowers in _her_ vases on every surface. _Her_ foul smelling incense pots all over the flat. All of _her_ trashy diet rubbish jammed on every shelf in the fridge - hense the need for a greasy carb full takeaway. He wagered he’d cry if he had to eat another low calorie, low salt, low fat, french dressing greek feta salad - And he’d be beyond pleased if he never had to so much as look at another one in all his life - but lo and behold, that what what Rachel planned to serve at ~~their~~ _her_ wedding reception.

He trudges, _wearily_ , again, to the kitchen. Sweeping their mock invites out of the way to place the bag down on the top. And when he does, he takes the warm foil carton out, grabs a fork, and eats from it, standing up. Surveying the busy and messy Rachel cluttered apartment that used to be clean, and all his.

He notices with dismay that Rachel had somehow managed to replace his framed poster above the fireplace, of which in used to sit the large print of the 'Great Gatsby' book poster. Which was an exquisite antique which  _someone_ had dug up from a little unknown shop somewhere. A one of a kind quirky place of which only said _someone_ could find in London.  

The missing poster had a midnight blue backdrop with Dr T.J Ecklebergs eyes presiding over his living room, like in the novel how Fitzgerald cunningly wrote about the forgotten occulists eyes as the ‘eyes of god.’

He remembered fondly that very same _someone_  once said that he now had the 'eyes of god' watching over his living room - no pressure for when he was bound to have some 'glamazon' actress up here for coffee after a date - she had mused with her honey gold smile and cheeky wit. 

He reminisces like yesterday when he moved in, and how that someone had wrapped it for him as a homewarming gift. That along with a big cellophane wrapped basket, tied with a bow. Containing everything a new home needs. Candles, for mood lighting. A loaf of bread, salt, wine, a ‘welcome’ doormat, a cheesy ‘home is where my heart is’ wooden heart that he hung on a peg in his cloakroom. A whole bevy of gifts to go with his new pad. He remembers the eager smile she had on her face as she watched him unwrap it. And when he did, he laughed. Because he loved it. A movie that graced many of their film nights was said 1974 classic, Great Gatsby, starring Robert Redford and Mia Farrow. Ben recalls watching her stand on a chair, and even in that get up of a simple white t-shirt and plain jeans, managing to look effortlessly striking, all to simply carry out the task of hanging the poster above his fireplace. To him, in that moment. She looked so utterly lovely.

Now, insultingly, in its place sat a vintage front cover of vogue. - Ben wondered if her choice could get any more pedestrian? - with her intending that damned thing to go along with the boring beige pillows she now had sitting on the sofa.

He sighed, slightly angrily at realising she had waited til he wasn’t paying attention to move it. But, he doesn’t have the energy to remain angry for long. If he did, he would be angry 24/7 For the rest of his life. 

It was safe to say, that he wasn’t happy.

That much had become clear to him in that last few months. But tonight really confirmed it. Mainly because he had seen, her. The aforementioned  _someone_. He had seen his Libby. His ex best friend.

My, god. Libby.

And she looked happy. That killed him. The last time he can remember her being that happy was beyond his memories reach. Which is an awful notion to him. He cannot pinpoint the last time of which he made her laugh, or when they had dinner. Or even if they just spent a few hours in each others company. And now, the only time he ever got to see her was the brief accidental glimpse if they ever ran into one another in London. An estranged Chelsea Girl and a Woeful Knightsbridge boy. Laughably, its almost as if they were exes. That’s a cruel yet truthful hilarity to him. Because he would wake up in a cold sweat some nights, with the faint memory of her in his dreams. And then he would peer over the covers across from him to see Rachel. And it was a sad thing to say that the fainter memory of Libby warmed his heart more than the sight of his wife-to-be ever could.

He remembered the last dream vividly. Instead of being at the church altar, to wed his bride, and lifting the veil to find Rachel beneath it, he would find Libby instead. But then the brief joy faded into image of her as that small, shrunken wet creature, with rubbed red raw blue eyes and wet hair, of which he didn’t recognise, back many months ago on the morning they definitely parted their standing as friends in each others lives, after the engagement party.

And now she had moved on. She had forgotten she and him ever were. She had JJ. And he knew how much she loved him, and how head over heels he was for her. Both JJ and Tom had been invited to the wedding, both of them had RSVP’d and Ben was sure they would both pitch up and smile, and politely wish him well. But he knew that once he married Rachel, he would never be able to see them in the same way ever again. No movie nights, no parties, not even a lunch date. And that was devastating.

He found that out the hard and strenuous way last week, when he met Amanda and Martin for dinner and drinks, and got home at the modest time of ten to eleven. But when he got back in the flat, he met a sulking and grumpy Rachel, who he then quickly descended into a row with. As she had text him 14 times, and he had not replied - his phone had died – and as he hadn’t acknowledged her, she had been stewing in her anger for many hours, greeting him with a screaming match and accusation of him cheating on her. and subsequently stated he was never to go out again without her knowledge of where he was going and especially whom he was going out with. But that didn’t cut both ways. As he had got a text earlier today that was barely three lines saying she wouldn’t be in, stating she was out for drinks with work buddies. And that she would stay on a friends sofa for the night. And that was it.

Ben knew himself, he couldn’t take much more of this. He was living naked under a spotlight, with nowhere to hide, so to speak, and she was allowed to move freely in the dark at all times where he had no idea what she was getting up too, or what she was doing.

He thinks of it that way, because every time Rachel has gone ‘out with work friends’ she would stumble home at 4 with her hair mussed, her clothes rumpled, and dewy as if she had just had a work out. And Ben would ignore her, and pretend to be asleep. He would just roll over in bed and make a false claim that he wasn’t angry.

And every time she said she was out for the night, it was always the same excuse and story. It was always ‘I’m crashing on Lola’s sofa’

"Lola's sofa" was turning out to be a very popular spot for Rachel these days. 

He goes through all of this in his head, whilst picking through his chow mein. And even though his stomach hungers for food that isn’t salad. With the thoughts that his brain is ticking over with, he’s suddenly not hungry any more.

Unexpectedly he now itches with impatience to try and find out where Rachel hid his beloved poster. Now, he stalks away from his food in the kitchen across his flat to the small cloakroom, and angrily tugs on the light cord to shed some light in the dark confined space. His eyes scanned around. Every nook and cranny he came across, he searched in for the famous poster. Looking for the white antique frame or the midnight blue background.

And before he knows it, anger is fuelling through his veins and he wants to rip this flat apart piece by piece, and turn the very place upside down to find that picture And whats most unsettling is that he’s not so sure he won’t. He walked back through to his study, throwing papers about, pulling his chest of drawers away from the wall. Checking behind bookshelves.

 _Nothing_.

Maybe his bedroom will hold him more luck, he searches under the bed, behind and in the wardrobe.

And then he finds it…

Under the bed. Gathering dust, Like the rest of his memories with Libby were. Faded and distant. Hazy watercolour memories. He pulls it out, and falls to his knees looking at it. Wiping his hand across the surface to get rid of the grime that collected on it under their bed. He wipes his nose with the back of his dusty and grubby hand. Looking sadly at that picture before him.

Rachel had the audacity to remove the poster from it’s rightful place in the frame, seeing as it fit her vogue cover photo _so perfectly_.

And he could just imagine Rachel sighing that to him in her nasally prim way as she always did when she wanted something her way like a petty two year old. He hated that. 

The edges of it are worn and bent and Ben just knew he would be livid if there was even a scratch or a tear in it – luckily he found none – but he couldn’t help but be saddened at seeing that quite literally, his former life, his life that he used to know, every single aspect of such was being swept away in cupboards, under beds or hidden and replaced by Rachels things now. Which were evidently held in far dearer regard than his own.

He coud only hope in vain that his future wouldn’t shape up to end this way too...

He turned it over, and to his surprise he finds a little note that he had never discovered before, scrawled onto the back right corner in Libbys creative and artful hand. The sight of which makes his eyes water.

 

 

May your life always be plentiful, and your friends equally as such. Congrats on the new pad you swanky filmstar. I raise my beer bottle to you in the hope that we together share many more memories like this one.

Your friend forevermore

\- Libs

xxx

 

 

And then when he finished reading it. He traces over the words etched onto the smooth paper as if he were ghosting his fingertips over Libby's soft cheeks, like the ardent touch of a lover. Like he had dreamt of doing to her for so long.

 

Then. He bows his head. Shoves the poster gently away. And sobs.

 

And sobs..... And sobs... 


	7. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short, fluffy, more to follow!

 

A week later, Libby was sat fussing with her hair at her dresser, prepping herself for tonights Christmas Party. Speaking of which, Christmas was a mere 3 days away now, and she was thoroughly in the festive spirit of things. Tonight was the night she and JJ had picked to invite most of their friends over for a christmas celebratory party. Which means there was a veritable tonne of party food downstairs that Libby’s dining table and kitchen counters would sit groaning under the wieght of later, aswell as a hardy amount of booze that she is sure will dwindle either completely or to a more modest size later on. Against her better judegement, she finally caved and let JJ have his way with the Christmas music (he promised to her that the amount of easy listening would be minimal, and he would on pain of death, atleast include some michael buble for her) which she delighted at when he told her, as she had to contend with a whole score of things as hostess. Decoration, cooking, cleaning. (he was no help there either, just vaguely hinted at the fact she should wear a naughty french maids uniform) Libby rolled her eyes at him and carried on hoovering with a smile on her face. But, to her credit, the house looked great now. She had three real life Christmas trees dotted about her house. (again forcing JJ to raise the question of, “excessive much?” – to which naturally, she replied with a accusingly scrooge bah humbug type comment) and each tree made the house smell of fresh pine. And each was strewn with various coloured baubles, beads, ribbons, little ornaments. Her home looked like an idyllic warm setting for a christmas catalogue. Fires lit, and as far as the eye could see, there hung either stockings by the fire, christmas lights hung from every tall corner, candy canes on the trees of which the minted scent mixed accordingly with the pine, and the scent of orange peel and cinnamon which she had thrown into the fire grates earlier in the day to burn away to now produce a warming aroma to breeze through her house like there was already another guest here, taking up room in the air. JJ remarked – in a somewhat more helpful manner this time – that her house looked very Frank Capra-esque and very delightfully festively decorated. Whilst Ella Fitzgerald sung ‘have yourself a merry little christmas’ in every corner of each downstairs room due to Libby’s wireless music system which makes it sound like the band is right there warming up in her lounge. Yes, indeed, JJ was right. Everything did seem light and happy. She was ready to drink, eat and be merry. All it needed now was the guests and the thrum of smiles and chatter to make it truly complete.

Libby mused over all of this as she sat happily at her dressing table, applying a sweep of neutral powder to her face. She had gone for a simple get up tonight. A black leather pencil skirt, simple velvet pump heels with red soles and a black sheer blouse that was gathered at her shoulders and dipped low on her cleavage and shoulderblades. After all, a girl could never go wrong with a black sheer slinky number when it came to a party. Libby slid her hands into her hair. Pushing her hair up, and then down on her head, how should she style her-

Her thoughts were rudely interupted as a hot pair of sneaky lips press themselves lovingly to her neck. Suddenly her brains fries and all she can do is sigh and smile. she smiles lovingly as all she can see now reflected in the mirror is the sight of her scoundrel of a lover, as his lips kiss slowly up her swan like neck with careful fastidiousness, sweeping that lovely red hair out of the path where his lips were headed. She can see the swirls of those luscious thick locks on his head as they tumble and scrape against her skin. She can smell his masculine molton brown shampoo scent, along with his cologne, and her tummy feels decidedly warm and content.

Then she sees what he has clutched in his hand, a bright green plant sprouting with white berries and tied with a poppy red bow.

“Misteltoe is traditionally used for kisses on the lips or cheeks.” Libby stated, as he kissed continously, causing hair to spring into her face.

“I’m not one for conventional style when it comes to kissing outreagously beautiful women..” he smiled, lifting his head as he drawled in a sexy voice, looking at her reflection in the mirror, shifting her hair back to its rightful place.

“Can you only manage to kiss them with misteltoe as your aid?” She joked.

She bit her lip as his hand came down softly on her leather clad ass in her tight skirt.

“They come flocking with or without help or assistance you cheeky mare..” He winked as she stood and faced him. His eyes flicked up and down to take in her sexy get up. And suddenly, he growled and used his hand tugging forwards on the back of her hip to bring her closer to him as the growl became more fierce.

“Very S&M. I love it.” He lusted, dragging one finger down her covered thigh.

“You love anything I wear.” She pointed out. “You’re no viable trustworthy judge.”

“…Makes your ass look sinful as hell too.” He carried on as if she hadn’t spoken, peering over her to see said rump straining at the material.

“We have guests arriving in half an hour…” Libby pointed out.

JJ whined, giving her the puppy dog eyes.

Libby rolled her eyes.

“If it eases the pain you can grope and admire me all evening, I will be a slave to your lust later…” She promises with a wink.

“You better.” He resolves, as they prepare to walk downstairs.

“Oh, and by the way, I put antlers on Finn.”

“Again?”

“Again.” She conludes with a smile.

“Fine, then I demand another kiss…” He stands firm. Holding out the misteltoe. Libby watched as her held it in front of his crotch.

“Kiss beneath the misteltoe. Thems the rules…” He grins like a gorgeous pervert.

“Ohh, you filthy loverat!” she scorns.

Libby chucks a wet tea towel as they were now in the kitchen. She watches as the cloth swathes his face. And as he pulls it off. He did not look amused.

“Oh, I declare war…”

He growls, and subsequently sprints after her. To which they end up with JJ running after her around the house playing kiss chase like two mad kids, until he eventually tackles her onto the floor, atop the warm wool rug by the fire.

Libby laughs as JJ pulls strands of her face.

“Now, milday. A kiss.” He pants, out of breath.

Libby took both hands either side of his face and brought his face to hers to place a smacking kiss on his mouth.

When he pulls away, he feels something slide onto his head. He looks up to see the flashing and singing antlers that she brought blasting away atop his head, blaring a god awful mechanical music of jingle bells as he looks to her with a stony face.

“Bah _fucking_ bloody humbug.” He drawls.

She says nothing but laughs and hugs him into a kiss once more.

 


	8. Ain't No Party like a Xmas Party...

 

 

 

A mere two hours later, and the party was in full swing. Guests were still pouring through the doors, smiling as they took off their coats and handed over large Christmas presents. Drink was flowing now, and Libby’s food was being piled high onto plates and eagerly devoured. And, just as Libby suspected, JJ’s choice of music was being commented on, and greatly appreciated. He had plenty of the old Christmas classics tinkling softly through the house. Libby was ensconced by her oven, sliding another tray of piping hot mini sausage rolls out to restock the large pile that had dwindled down. But she wasn’t alone, Jules was the first of her friends to arrive, and had subsequently offered a hand from the second she stepped through the door. She was helping Libby to reorganise the table, shuffling plates about and chatting animatedly with her friend.

“You know, I promised myself I would try not to be envious of your life. But, my god, your boyfriend is stunningly sexy. You look glamorous as ever, fantastic ass in that skirt by the way, and you are the perfect hostess. And to top it all off, your house looks like something out a white company catalogue.” Jules smiled, arranging a large pile of home baked profiteroles, every now and then, idly sucking off a glob of chocolate from her fingers.

Libby smiled over at her friend, from shutting the oven door and folding the oven gloves back on top of the counter. Smiling madly at her friend.

“Are you going to make me blush all evening?” Libby asked.

“Depends.” Jules winked cheekily. “You aren’t planning to announce that you single handedly solved the middle east crisis, and found the cure for cancer are you?” the cheeky blonde uttered, fiddling with the huge mountain of prawn torpedo's.

“Not on my to-do list today, I’m afraid. I’ll have to wave that Nobel peace prize goodbye..” Libby mocked, rounding the counter to take another round of mini cheesecakes out of the fridge. Laying them out. As Jules examined her friend rather carefully.

“You know… you never did elucidate the exact reasons behind why you and Benedict had your little tete a tete.” She spoke in a slow quiet voice.

Libby smiled, leaning over the counter and avoiding eye contact as she sprinkled more powdered sugar over the black forest gateau.

“The fact that he is marrying an absolute horror of a woman. I’m sure I told you that…” Libby frowned mildly. Wondering if her usually correct memory had failed her.

“No. you did.” Jules answered quickly. “But you went no further, and usually you are not stingy with the details…” she added.

Libby shrugged her left shoulder, eyes preoccupied with altering the holly that topped the mince pies. Jules heard her sigh.

“I just… Ben. He, didn’t want to listen to me. That’s. You know. It doesn’t even matter. We’re done now, and that’s just how it is.” Libby explained softly.

Jules fought down on the counterpart to that bland argument of hers. The fact that for as long as she had known Libby, Ben had been centred as her bestest friend. And now, to have to go about her social circles without him, well, it must’ve left a sizeable gap that her friend had attempted to build a bridge over. All Jules could do was hope that she was as alright as she looked on the outside.

Jules did naught but nod. Both women turned to look at the door as the bell rung once more. Libby's eyes roved across as her lanky gorgeous man in his dove grey shirt and tailored trousers slid across the hall to open the door. Greeting everyone – whom he all knew – with his signature swoon worthy smirk and a kind festive greeting, waving them in, pointing them to the booze and food, taking their coats and making _sure all_ the women succumbed to a kiss underneath the mistletoe.

Libby smiled, watching his beaming profile as he spoke to the throng of his friends around him. She could see the firelight from the lounge where he stood adjacent too, tonged across his skin, slicking over the fine wave of his hair. The yearning low in her gut gives off just exactly how much she realises she adores this man.

_A lot._

As the people disperse, she is left idly smiling at her man, who turns and catches it, and gives her a slow wink through the bustle of people crowded about her house. She smiles wider at him before he shoots her his finest knickers incinerating look and puts the coats away in the cloakroom.

“Oh please. If you two are going to start eye-fucking each other, I’ll go and find some sad single people to talk too.” Jules grumbles.

“How do you know I haven’t invited someone intending to set you up…” Libby waggled her brows at her despondent friend who was now glaring at the redhead.

“I’m gonna hurt you.” Jules grumbled.

“oh now.” Libby smiled.

At that precise moment, the door rang again, and was pushed open to reveal that the frame was darkened by none other than a willowy built woman with silver eyes, and a huge stocky man not far behind her. Tessa and Mark.

Libby rounded the counter and waved them in.

“Come in, far too cold out there. Merry Xmas.” Libby smiled, leaning into Tessa for a hug, and leaning up on her tiptoes as Mark gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Lovely to see you both.” Libby smiled. Looking pointedly at mark and amazed that Tessa had let the relationship last this long. She had a habit of finding some pitiful excuse for ending things usually by the end of the three week mark.

It was at this point that Tessa dumped a large casserole dish into Libby’s arms and gave her winning smile right back at her.

“Merry Xmas Red, here’s a casserole for your trouble…” She smiled affably.

“A casserole?” Libby asked. Looking down at the dish in her hands.

“I never go anywhere without a casserole.” Tessa explained with no note of humour in her voice, but a smile on her face.

“That must make dining out, and doctors appointments rather awkward..” Libby supposed. Mark let out a sharp bark of laughter at Libby’s wit.

“Come on in. please drink booze, and there is a veritable banquet of food to get started on.” She explained, taking their coats.

“Your house looks incredible…” Mark noted, looking at the high ceilings, all of which was strewn with either lights or holly wreaths.

Tessa had spotted Jules and made a beeline for their blonde friend. Leaving Libby and Mark to chatting. Kissing a cheek and ushering a hello.

“Oh, thankyou. Admittedly, it doesn’t usually look this OTT with the festive decorations. But yeah, it keeps the rain out.” Libby explained, thanking the man as he handed her a good bottle of red wine.

“My other half informs me this would go well with the casserole…” He noted, with wry humour.

Libby let a bubble of laughter ricochet out of her throat.

“Well. It wouldn’t be Tessa if she didn’t try and weasel food to me somehow..” Libby explained.

“An odd specimen she is.” Mark smiled, thanking Libby as she snapped the top off an ice cold beer and handed it to him.

“Hey, you know I have some friends at Good Living magazine, and I bet they would just adore to photograph your…” Mark stopped admiring the kitchen and looked back to Tessa, Jules and Libby. To see they were smiling at him with wide humour filled smiles.

“What” He asked, looking stunned.

“Hate to steal your thunder champ, but they already have.” Tess explained.

“4 times.” Jules added, sipping her mulled wine.

“4 times?” He asked incredulously.

 **“** I’m friends with the editor, and when she got stuck for the odd issue, she used my humble abode for a column. So far, it has been in the spring, summer, autumn, and winter issues.” Libby explained.

Mark looked stumped.

“You know. I’m going to keep my mouth shut now.” Mark decided. Sipping on his beer and slinging an arm about Tessa’s waist. She rubbed his arm soothingly.

Libby smiled. Hearing a surprising song erupt out from the speakers all across the house, just above the din of voices chatting and laughing. It was ‘skinny genes’ by Eliza Doolittle, and she vaguely remembers one odd conversation she had with JJ once when they were laid in bed, content in the afterglow of sex, and Libby claimed how much she loved this song. She couldn’t believe he had remembered….

At that moment, the said man in question rounded the kitchen doorway and beamed at the small cluster of people who were crowded around his Libby.

“Hello darling.” He remarked eyes looking mischievous and gleaming, as his hand settling low on the back of Libby’s leather clad waist. Dexterous fingers rippling down, so his lower hand cheekily swiped across her luscious ass cheek.

“Oh, everyone, JJ. Jay you remember Tessa?” Libby pointed out

“I daren’t forget…” JJ winked to the now tinted pink Tessa who shook his offered hand.

“Jules…” Libby carried on.

“Tinkerbell if I’m not mistaken.” JJ asked, raising a wry brow.

“I would love them to forget that nickname..” Jules said honestly.

“And last, but definitely not least. Mark, Tessa’s boyfriend.”

JJ and Mark clapped hands in that manly way that only males could do.

“Nice to meet you all.”

“Oh, I feel as of we’ve met already…” Jules offered very slyly. Taking a devious sip of her mulled wine.

JJ raised a brow.

“Evidently, you have been talking about me.” He side swiped to his now grinning red head, who was biting her lip and looking very sheepish.

“Oh, bit’s and pieces here and there…” Libby replied.

“Do you ladies not realise that your petty gossip is very terrifying to us men…” Mark interjected softly. JJ nodded, stretching out a hand in consideration of Mark’s point.

“Thankyou man.” He interjected.

“Oh, grow a pair…” Tessa grumped to her man.

Libby laughed. Clapping a hand to JJ’s shoulder.

“We don’t gossip about harmful things in accordance to you.” Libby began.

“Yes, mostly it is about bitchy women, like Lauren Mckenzie who we cannot stand. Who then get botch boob jobs…” Jules smirked evilly.

“Hers are fake?” JJ asked with disbelief.

Jules grinned and nodded, all three women giggling with hilarity at the notion of JJ gas-bagging.

“Looks like the surgeon threw two unequal water balloons in there…” she added, pointing her fingers in different directions from her chest.

JJ snorted with laughter. But as he pulled back, found that Libby was examining him with a look of humour and disbelief.

“Ok, and now I’m going to go and um, spit, and open some really tight pickle jars and eat some bacon.” He grumped, ruffing his voice up and attempting to sound manly.

Libby smiled as he winked at her and ducked off to circulate.

Jules and Tessa finished laughing, long enough to smile encouragingly at Libby.

“Very nice catch.” Tess winked.

“Funny to boot.” Jules smiled.

“Great smile.” Mark added dreamily.

Tessa gave him a look that would have made any man feel instantly degraded and raped of his masculinity.

“I’ll stop.” He added.

“You do that.” Tessa finished tersely with humour in her smile.

Libby sauntered away to open the door and let some more people in. Which turned out to be Charley and her New man, Alex. Libby would never not envy Charley’s afro – Caribbean figure. Which was on fine display tonight as she wore a body-con white turtle necked dress, with big silver chunky heels and bold silver eyeliner. Her hair piled atop her head in a way that no one else but Charley, could get away with. All in all, she looked stunning. The man stood dutifully by her side equally as so. He had deep black hair, and a handsomely angular face, which consisted of a wide calm smile, and deep green eyes with stubble the same colour as that of his hair. And he was tall too, with a height that towered above Charley's, he wore a fine grey suit with a black shirt underneath and a dark grey wool coat with the collar folded up to keep out the frigid December air in London.

“Hi guys, come in come in.” Libby welcomed, giving Charley a kiss on the cheek.

“Alex, this is my good friend, Libby. Or Red as we know her, Libs, this is Alex.” Charley introduced.

“It is lovely to meet you.” Libby smiled, as Alex clasped her hand tightly, kissing the back of it.

“I have heard many tales about you infamous band of ladies.” Alex implied with a gentle smile.

“Oh, well. We’ll try and live up to the hype. I promise you that.” Libby smiled as they stepped in from out of the cold night air.

Libby, being the angelic hostess she was, took their coats and showed them through the place, and pointed out where they could get the booze and the food from.

After she had finished giving them the whistle stop tour of the place, she pointed through to the kitchen where Tessa, Jules and Mark were gabbing and laughing away.

“.. and those two make up the remainders of our wild little group.” Libby smiled.

“This ones yacked off my ears about you lot. You’re all clearly very beloved.” Alex smiled widely, his arm about Charley who was sipping her bucks fizz and trying not to blush.

“Yeah, well, we’re all crazy about this one.” Libby said, stroking a hand down Charley's arm.

“Ditto.” Alex smiled, Charley made an ‘aw’ face.

“Ok, lets get you some booze.” She smiled, moving past Libby who winked at Charley as soon as Alex’s head was turned, making a sly ‘o’ shape with her forefinger and thumb to signal an ‘ok’ on her choice of man.

Charley bit her lip and gave a little impish smile as he response as she got to introducing her new man to the group.

The doorbell rang again, and Libby was nearly considering hiring a butler for the amount of times she’d tottered back and forth from the house to the door, and when she swings it open she is shocked to find not a gang of people, but just one. Just one lanky friend stood on his own.

Libby’s face broke into a grin on seeing Tom. As did Tom.

“Merry Christmas darling.” He spoke, smiling that heavenly pearly smile of his .

Libby widened the door, allowing him in from the cold.

“Merry Christmas Tom.” She smiled, as she enveloped her friend into a large hug. Suddenly very thankful for the fact she had him by her side this year, after all she had been put through.

She stepped aside to let him in, finding that he pressed a small square box into her hands. It was neatly wrapped, a small red gift with a large white bow atop it. And a small white card was to follow it.

“Oh Tom..” She smiled, insinuating thankfulness and the old wives notion of ‘oh-you-shouldn’t-have’ tone.

He made a face, one of which Libby couldn’t quite read.

“What’s wrong?” Libby placed hesitantly.

“The present is mine, the card however, is not…” He spoke carefully as he shut the door behind him.

She frowned mildly at him.

“Then who…” She began.

But looking at Tom, whose face dropped as he sighed and tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. And Libby knew in an utter instant who it was from.

She would know that scrawl of barely legible hand anywhere.

“Oh, my. It’s from _him_ isn’t it?” She rasped quietly. Looking down at the little slip of paper in her hands like it was a gateway to another world.

Tom made a pained face. He knows he should’ve waited. Not ruin her mood like this. He had a debate in the cab over here whether or not he should even give it to her. But, Ben had seemed rather adamant. _Very_ adamant in fact. Tom can still remember his friend forcing it into his clasped hand and saying nothing other than the mantra of ‘please, Tom. _Please. Give it to her.’_ and whilst usually, Ben would not have used Tom as his carrier pigeon, at the mantra that Ben pleaded to him, and the sheer desperation that his eyes were drowning in. How could the genteel and kind natured Tom refuse?

Tom sighed. _Again._

“Look, I didn’t want to get involved, I mean. But, Libs he was frantic about this.” He jutted his chin down, gesturing to the thing she held in her hands.

He didn’t quite know how she would react. He certainly didn’t want to ruin the fantastic party she was throwing. The house sung to the rafters with festive music, good food, and great company. He didn’t want to put a dampener on that. Plus she was with JJ now. He didn’t want this tiny little thing to do a lot of devastation to her, and him.

And then, as Libby always would, and will forever more continue to do, to baffle him. She crossed to the hallway table and slid the card to rest just under the lip of the bowl. Out of sight and out of mind. She looked down at it for a moment, before she turned to Tom and smiled. And he was delighted, because it was a smile that reached her eyes and made them shine.

“Drink?” She asked jovially. Pressing the little slip of devastation out of her head.

“Please.” He pressed, sauntering after her into the partially busy kitchen. Clapping eyes on Tessa, and Jules and Charley, being introduced to the new men of the group. Mark and Alex.

Libby watched as the small group of her friends laughed and joked with each other, she smiled before turning round to get herself a drink and go and mingle accordingly with all her guests.

She had just taken a sip of red wine, and was just crossing to the lounge, bidding a hello and finding herself roped into a couple of conversations as people would pull her in and tell her how amazing the food was, or how they enjoyed the music.

She had just finished talking to her publisher when all of a sudden a flurry of movement that was one JJ fields spun into her and caught her hand.

“Care to come with me? Someone wishes to meet you.” He smiled, looking very gorgeous.

“Well I never, lead the way..” Libby smiled back.

They made their merry way into the lounge to see a man in a crisp suit with his back to her, whom JJ crossed too. He must’ve come with a guest of Libby’s, or as one of JJ’s invites as she had never seen him before. And obviously, he hadn’t met her either. He had salt and pepper hair, and thick retro black glasses. Wearing a grey turtleneck under a jacket. Libby liked to think every two artists were different, but she couldn’t help escaping the fact that he looked like he belonged in the art world.

“Andrew, this is the lady of the hour.” JJ spoke as they got to him.

The man turned and greeted them both with a wide smile.

“Fantastic, hello. Libby, isn’t it?” He smiled eagerly.

“Yes, I’m Libby. Andrew…” she trailed off, needing his second name.

He stuck out his hand, which she grabbed and took, shaking enthusiastically.

“Sorry, so rude of me, Andrew Coningby.” He beamed.

“well, It’s lovely to meet you.” Libby smiled.

“May I just say I have admired your work for absolute decades.” He began.

JJ squeezed her hip stood by her side. She blushed, from head to toe. He loved how she couldn’t take an easy compliment.

“That’s very kind of you, thank you.” She smiled.

“You are freelance? Right?”

“Yes, I was part of an agency up to about three years ago, but then my book broke the ice, and now. Well. The rest is history.” She explained.

“I was admiring the sketches in your hall earlier, yours?” He asked with eagerness.

She nodded.

“Yes. All mine, I’m afraid. All the pieces I didn’t have the heart to discard, and they wouldn’t fit in the book. I couldn’t bear parting with them.” She clarified.

“They are just so phenomenal. I’d love to have you come in sometime, maybe we could even talk about making some regular work for you. With your business acumen and past experience with the art world, I’m sure it would be the wind beneath your wings.” He complimented.

“That sounds promising. I’m sorry, if you don’t mind my asking, who do you work for?” She enquired, laughing lightly.

“Debut Illustration Agency.” He said coolly.

“Oh, wow.” Libby said, stunned. She had wanted to work for an agency like ‘Debut’ ever since she was 18.

“I probably should have mentioned who I worked for earlier.” Andrew said in a -come-to-think-of-it –type manner.

Libby beamed.

“I’m. That agency was my dream career when I was in Uni. I’d adore to talk business.” She smiled.

“Unfortunately, I think the spot that would be perfect for you has just been filled in London. But I know New York office has a vacancy.” He grinned.

“New York?” Libby asked, stunned.

“If you’re interested. I know it would be a huge leap up from London. But, there’d be a pay rise, company benefits. And you’d be delegating to over 30 Illustrators at a time. Not to mention that I’m sure this charming man would accompany you. Plenty of broad way and acting work in US for JJ.” He said, in persuasion.

Libby’s mouth had gaped in a smile.

“It’s very tempting, and I’m so flattered you thought of me for the job I.…” She beamed. Words beyond her capability as she smiled.

“I’ll take your stunned speechless silence as a good thing.” Andrew said reaching into his jacket pocket to flip open his wallet and fold out a card.

“Oh, you should, I’m usually very eloquent.” Libby stuttered.

Andrew laughed.

“Oh they’d love that wit in New York, trust me.” He beamed, chuckling, pressing his black debut business card into Libby’s hand.

Libby tried not to let the singing in her head fly out of her mouth. Which was; _I’ve got the golden ticket. I’ve got the golden ticket. I’ve got the golden ticket. I’ve got the golden ticket._

“Think about New York, and give me a call sometime. I’m sure once I suggest you to the board, they’ll be clamouring for you as madly as I have.” He hinted.

Libby smiled.

“Thank you again. just, you, yeah. Thanks.” She beamed before Andrew moved away from them both.

“Gonna grab some more grub. Those prawn torpedo's are to die for…” He smiled as he sauntered off.

“Way to be articulate baby…” JJ winked at her after Andrew moved off, smoothing a hand down her hip. Stood by her side looking tall, and handsome and very proud.

Libby smiled, still transfixed by the embossed card of life altering and ultimate career goals and possibilities which sat in her fingers. Literally _right_ at her fingertips.

“New York.” She muttered. Her brain ticking over. As she bit her lip. She then looked at the room around her, filled with Christmas cheer, and some of her closest friends. She looked at the home she had spent 16 years building here. The life she had made. Her family. She was struck by the thought that she wouldn’t be able to leave that all just for her career. Would she? She did love London. Could she love New York more, she wondered?

That was before she tuned back into the festive room around her. Above people chatting, she could hear something that made her turn to her boyfriend. Frowning.

“The spice girls Jay, really?” she asked with a disbelief half bred with a laugh.

He shrugged.

“’Who do you think you are’, it’s an anthem.” He finalised.

She shook her head, laughing.

That was before she made the mistake of looking up, and seeing there was a bunch of mistletoe tied to the doorway above them.

“Would you look at that.” She said, feigning surprise.

She looked down to JJ, who waggled his infamously sexy brows at her.

“Oh go on then…” She beamed.

He tucked his hands about her waist, as her fingers slid into his silky locks and they pulled each other together for a simply stunning kiss. When they pulled away, they stayed linked to each other for a moment. Taking a second out of all the hubbub of the noise and chatter to just be with each other for the brief interlude of time.

“Did I mention how thankful I am for you, this year?” She spoke softly.

He thought, his eyes roving off to the side for a second.

“I believe you have somewhat illuminated me to this fact, yes.” He smiled lowly. As he twirled a finger through her incredible red hair that he loved.

“As long as you know.” She smiled.

“Well, if my words do fall short in any way, I would surely be obliged to actively express my ardent devotion for you, later on…” JJ purred. Leaning in to whisper the last half of the sentence into her ear

“in bed, all alone, with you, in nothing but the skirt…” He growled lustfully.

“Well, if you want to wear the skirt, I suppose I’ll let you have a go. Feed your cross dressing tendencies…” Libby cheeked, rolling her eyes as she teased him by twisting his words.

He took a not so discreet swat to her ass with his palm for the comment.

“Cheeky minx.” He grumped. “You’re gonna pay for that one…” He insinuated.

“Down boy.” Libby winked.

He raised a cheeky brow at her.

“Oh, did I mention that your favourite man is here by the way?” Libby asked him.

JJ went still, his eyes looking wide with wonder.

“You invited Leonard Nimoy here? To your Christmas party?” he squeaked.

“Not quite as grand. I’m afraid. Hiddles made it after all.” Libby smiled.

“ _AH_ that man.” JJ sighed, pretending to be dreamily enraptured.

“Yeah, ok. Easy there tiger. I don’t know if he’s looking for a date.” Libby teased.

“Tom wouldn’t cast me aside like that.” JJ spoke flippantly. Beaming. The two got on like a house on fire, Libby was one step away from being sure they’d elope together.

“Well, go find your man, Fields. I’m off to do polite hostess things.” She smiled. Sipping more wine from her glass.

“You do that.” He smiled, skirting past her. Grabbing some mistletoe off the door above.

“Coming, with a pucker made for you in mind, Hiddleston.”

He spoke to himself as he stalked off to go and smother Tom with kisses. Libby smiled.

“Ass looks dynamite in that skirt by the way baby..” He breezed at her before he walked off.

“Save the sweet talk for Tom, dear.” She teased, parting ways with him.

 

~

 

Three hours later, and the party had started to thin out. As per Libby’s astoundingly correct predictions, the booze had dwindled by a half, and there were but a few plates left of the mountain of party food she had put out. So, all in all, it had been a huge success. What Libby really adored was that there was a veritable swathe of Christmas presents that everyone had brought now sat crowded under the large tree in her living room.. The fires had died to ember ashes now, still keeping the house just the right side of toasty. And the few friends that remained were slumped across sofas, or sprawled on the floor. Everyone else had extended the courtesy of leaving at a reasonable hour. But those left now were wholly welcomed. As it was Tessa and Mark, Tom and Jules. The only reason Charley hadn’t been able to stay was that her and Alex were travelling to Milan to spend Xmas there in his swanky new pad. Libby had waved her off at the door, feigning utter jealousy; but ultimately relieved to see that Alex was absolutely smitten with Charley, and that she was just as also. It was a nice thing to behold.

All of the three sofas in Libby’s lounge were occupied, the on adjacent to the window, had the woman herself, sprawled next to JJ and Tom next to him. (Libby daren’t split the lovebirds up) and Jules occupied the ‘singleton’ sofa to herself, with Finn snuggled at her feet as it was his chair by rights, but he happily relinquished it for the happy blonde guest who fussed him all evening. And beyond that, Tessa and Mark had the other sofa all to themselves. All the women had forgone the painful heels and sat curled up to their respective others. Apart from Libby of course. JJ had one of his arms around Tom. Which had made Libby roll her eyes. And they were all drinking Irish coffee or whiskey and laughing idly about silly things. But loving it all the same.

“…so, you can imagine my surprise. When I get here, get invited in, cup of tea, and all that. All lovely and dandy. But then, I bring out the book and I can barely get the words ‘have you read this?’ out of my mouth before the book is torn away from my hands, and honest to god Libs, I have never seen you go so red in all my life…” Jules laughed, aswell as Tessa and Mark. JJ was struggling not too aswell. But it was a story Tom was only all to familiar with, so he settled for a drunken titter instead.

“I didn’t know you were gonna read it?” Libby laughed, doubled over as she tried not to spill her whiskey.

“Libby, may I just say you don’t strike me as the kind of woman to appear in a foreign adult novel.” Mark interjected, Tessa beamed next to him.

“Oh, I bet your hiding an international reputation from us all, hey Red?” Tessa winked.

“Yes of course. I did it for the money.” She exclaimed falsely.

“You’d think that would reach the epitome of embarrassment for her, but there's more…” Jules ensured Mark.

“Every time, Jean Pierre came to London he would, hound me, to take me out to dinner, whereby he would then spew out all of his ‘new’ poetry to me, and state how much he wanted me to move back to Paris with him. It’s flattering, but so cringey.” Libby blushed. Laughing through her words and intoxication.

Mark laughed. Libby shook her head with mortification.

“My character usually doesn’t come off this sexual to other people. Mark, I am _so_ sorry please don’t think ill of me because of what these two tell you..” Libby beamed, fingering Jules and Tessa solely to blame for the shoddy story topics.

“I certainly shall not let it dictate my opinion. I assure you. Any woman who keeps a ten year Glenn Fiddich, and then has it neat in the evening is alright in my book.” Mark smiled, raising his glass in a toast.

At this point, Tom sat up, JJ’s mistletoe falling off his shoulder as he did. Raising his glass in the air and summoning the strength to find his words.

“Matter of fact, I think we all need to make a toast…” He began, as everyone raised their glasses in the air.

“To Libby. Our dear Red. Life and soul of the party. Our rock, our pillar, and without whom, we would not stand….”

It was safe to say Tom got a few heckles from Tessa and Jules to ‘get on with it!’

“…our, surprisingly _not_ an international adult film porn star. But our classy, funny and all round amazing London Bird, who we are each lucky to call our own. Here's to you, dear heart. I speak for all here, when I say I would be a poor man, had I not known you. Here's to Libby.” Tom, finally, concluded. Raising his glass up and taking a sip. As everyone else in the room did.

“here, here…” could be heard as glasses chinked together.

“And thank you all for coming tonight to drink all me booze.” Libby laughed.

Everyone erupted into drunken yet happy complaint at her cheapening of the moment as she smiled. Hearing ‘boo's’ and jeers, Laughing at them all. She leaned back into the sofa, and curled up into JJ, who placed an intimate hand on her thigh.

“I will stick steadfast to my promise of conveying my physical love for you later in a way that you find _so very_ pleas-ur-able…” He drawled into her ear.

She smiled. Leaning back on the sofa, and just enjoying tonight, and her friends. And wondering what the next year would bring to her.

 

 

~

 

 

Later that evening, after all her drunkard happy friends had cleared off home. And after JJ had spent three hours venting his physical love for Libby, she had pulled on his grey shirt and scampered downstairs after JJ fell asleep, trudging through her warm dark house, to stumble lazily on awake feet to the hallway table and lay to rest a demon that had been plaguing her thoughts since earlier.

She ripped open the envelope and looked at the card. It was some bland old Christmas greetings card. But nonetheless, she opened it and saw but one tiny sentence scrawled inside, not quite able to understand why he had bothered to send it to her at all.

 

_Merry Christmas,_

_May the next year bring you much joy_

_commiserations_

_Ben_

 

She sighed. It looked like their relationship had now moved to the point of abysmal greetings cards and barely lukewarm sentiment.

She put the card down on the side and went back up to bed. Leaving Ben’s card by the Debut Illustration card. One represented the past, the other, a possible glimpse into her future. She had some thinking to do….

 

 


	9. Hard Mornings, Partings and Showery times...

 

 

 

It was a rainy Saturday afternoon, the following day after the party when Libby had agreed to meet a very hungover Tessa for coffee at a cute little bistro not five minutes from each others places. The hardest part of her day, she feared, was having to drag herself away from her warm bed at ten o’clock and away from a certain half naked man who seemed determined to keep her there.

She was sat on the edge of the large bed, having showered and gotten dressed in near silence for fear of waking him up. The sun shone coolly through the rain into her large bedroom windows, making her room seem airy and light. The day outside looked pleasant, but Libby somehow knew it would be bitterly cold to go out into. The weather could be a deceptive thing this time of year in London…

As is was only Tessa she was meeting, she didn’t dress up to the nines, so to speak. But threw on her comfiest old grey jumper that was absolutely worn to bits, her saggiest and most stretched pair of jeans and her battered old boots. She could wear a huge thick warm peacoat and teem it with a scarf to keep the cold at bay. But as soon as she shimmied her too big ass into her always too tight trousers, and sat down on the bed in jeans and a vest top to pull her socks on. She heard the duvet rustle and shift behind her, indicating that her slumbering gentleman was slumbering no longer.

The first contact she feels is his rough unshaven chin nuzzle up her creamy skinned shoulder, crooking into the curve of her neck from behind. The touch instantly made Libby’s toes and tummy do funny clenchy things. Her body bristled with pinpricks of adoration at his nuzzling attentions. His nose snuffling into her neck, burrowing under her curtain of scented red curls to nip softly at the left side of her throat. Making a sexy moaning sound in the back of his throat that she was unfortunately _very_ immune too.

“Where are you slinking off to, so early Lucky?” He gruffed, his voice still doused in the husky unawake sound of sleep. Rough yet buttery at the same time. He was a sinful oxymoron.

She smiled, trying to keep a hold of her arousal, as his lips and voice were starting to unpluck and unwind her, as if he were slowly unravelling thread from a bobbin. The master puppeteer of her seduction. He could pick her apart faster than a box of angry kittens unleashed on a tapestry.

“I’m going to meet Tessa for a post hangover coffee.”

Libby explained, to find that her intentions were met with a growl of utter displeasure. As she struggled to wind her socks up her calves, with her hair sliding its way down over her shoulder as one certain lover shoved it there as he sucked at the sweetly scented and sensitive skin at the back of her neck.

And this time, Libby truly does bite her lip, because damn the man all to hell, he’s found the very spot that means he can pluck her apart like she is a ball of putty for him. A little sigh that begins to mingle with a moan spills out of her lips. And she wishes it hadn’t, one, because she was meeting Tessa at quarter past ten, and she was now running behind. And two, because that moan meant that he was starting to _win._

And she’s definitely sure she’s lost the battle when his fingers start to ghost up the sides of her shoulders, skim along her collarbone and slowly and teasingly flutter down her bare arms. Lips smiling into the back of her shoulder, breathing the scent of her in deep. He couldn’t get enough of this woman. He was sure there was some odd sort of sexual magnetisation that constantly pulled him to her. He could _never_ get enough. Even knowing her wouldn’t see her when he went to sleep was torture, even if she was sleeping _next_ to him. Suddenly, sleep seemed like such a waste when he could be with her.

She was a dangerously wonderful addiction. And she was delighted that he was her addiction too. If two people were ever made for each other, they were it. It was mad, they knew. But it seemed as if his hands were just the right size to clutch at her magnificent ass, and her chin was anatomically structured and crafted to slant into the crook of his fine neck. It truly was, as if they were designed for each other.

“Jay…”

She moaned softly in something that he was sure she intended as a ‘let-me-go’ whine. But it sounded to him more like a hushed sanctification. Which furthermore meant that he was starting to gain the upper hand in this. Which is abundantly apparent when he manoeuvres her so when he gives the slightest of tugs on her left arm, she is unwillingly pulled to the mattress below her, chuckling softly with anticipation of what's coming. Which turns out to be her rolled under the bare chested 6 foot frame of her wiry male, who tucks her in his arms and proceeds to give her a sparks flying inducing kiss that could rival the 4th of July fireworks. She arches up into him willingly, crossing her arms at the back of his neck, feeling his warm soft skin that she wants to curl up, and sleep next too. Her fingers toy with the curled waves of his silky hair at his nape, brushing his scalp in a way that makes him take her bottom lip between his teeth and suck. Her right thigh comes to bend up and brush against his left side as she positions herself under him as he is kissing her into a state of aroused willingness.

When he pulls away, its almost too much for her to even think about stopping the kiss. But she does, with both of her palms stroking down the side of his face. Taking in those beautiful deep eyes, and the cheeky wide smile which – she knows she shouldn’t – but couldn’t help recalling what sinfully wicked honey tongued skill those lips had, especially when reunited with a certain place at the apex of her thighs.

“Now I really have to go.” She moans, carting one hand up across the wavy tresses that his sleep and her pillow had styled for him.

“When you come back, you. me. that shower. and I’m going to fuck so hard you won’t be able to stand, and by the end when I’m finished with you, I will have run out of ways to make you cum..” He told her.

She opened her mouth to fight him, but he was faster.

“It wasn’t a topic up for discussion…”

He snarled, winking at her before diving for her lips for one last thriller of a kiss that would leave her running back for more after her coffee date. He watched as she bit her lip, and he, against his better wolf like, all male judgement, let her slide out from under him to pull on her jumper, capturing those lovely red curls in the woollen cocoon. And sliding on her boots, unfortunately, this meant that she had to bend over right in front of him, showing how that wonderful ass strained against her denim jeans that he was going to rip when he tore them off later, he decided, and his stomach tightened with nothing other than all male lust as he fought the urge not to drag her to that shower now and fuck her so hard til she couldn’t remember which way was up or down.

After she had gathered her things, she leant back over the bed to sneak a messy kiss onto his lips before pulling herself away and out of the house. Leaping over a snoring Finn on her bedroom floor.

“Don’t start without me, Fields.” He heard her shout up before the door slammed and she was the other side of it, rushing to her coffee date.

JJ curled back up in the warm bed, smiling like the devil.

 

~

 

Libby burst through the doors to the coffee place, the sun had been swallowed up by the rain as it really let a rip on a windy storm. So much so, that now her coat was dewed with raindrops, the sides of her hair had stuck to her face in the wetness, and she’s pretty sure the what she thought as a ‘shallow’ puddle which she trod in was the sole reason her foot was now squelching and soggy.She shook off the excess water that clung to her, and her – frankly ineffective umbrella – and made her drippy way over to the festively decorated counter to order something hot, and something else with chocolate on it to re-liven her mood.

“Very large hot tea please, and a brownie. To eat in.” she smiles, swiping a coil of soggy hair away from her cheek. Handing over a fiver with trembling cold fingers. The barista looked at her with a empathetic understanding of Britain having shitty cold rain in December, and how umbrellas were – clearly – no guarantee of keeping oneself dry. Thankfully, a spot near the fogged up window in the glass front dominated café opened up. And Libby seized it, the empathetic barista said she would bring her tea over when it was ready.

Libby took the opportunity to thank some benevolent god that she was sat just opposite the heater which breathed out hot gusts of air every now and then, and she pulled out her slightly rain damaged book – the book thief - which she loved and had read over 20,000 times. She shrugged herself out of the confines of her rain speckled coat and threw it over the arm of the upholstered chair she was in to let it dry. She also took out her big retro reading glasses – what could she say, she was getting old – and as she got her steaming cup of tea brought over, and her brownie. She folded herself up into the comfy chair, watched the rain blowing a gale outside, leaking down the cold window she sat next too, and smiled contently to herself as she read through her beloved book and waited patiently for Tessa to arrive.

She could have done this for hours. Lost hours whiling away the time in this way. Trudging on from page to skilfully flowing page. She could misplace herself as she explored each of the different characters which took up residence on the pages. Reading for her, there was really no other hobby that could distract you as wonderfully as reading could. She had always been obsessed with books, loved reading them, help creating them and revelling in them. She was a happy victim of books. And there was no rehabilitation for that addiction. What fascinated her was that she was only 33 years old, and she had read so many books she didn’t know where to begin. But she had left ahead of her, so many years and titles to look forwards too. She adored that-

“Good book?”

Came a gruff and tense familiar voice from beside her. She was so ensconced in her book, and her thoughts, that she didn’t see the tall man clap eyes on her from the second he had stepped in from the rain, looking for solace from the bitter weather and a double latte

She tore her eyes away from the words on the page long enough to look up and see her heartbreak stood in front of her. Dressed in some silly t-shirt that he loved, with a brown leather jacket swathing his torso and those awful beaten up converse on his feet.

He looked just like he always used too. But they could never be the same friends like they always used too.

Her eyes slid up to meet with his own again. Those slight almond shaped blue eyes that she didn’t realise she had missed, and that unruly flop of – she notices – rain spattered brown hair that he always had no idea how to style. Now lolloped on his forehead, topping his long angular face which she had sorely missed making break out into laughter or a smile.

She sighs, but she knows that is just her brain stalling as she tries to gather together some intelligible words. Almost as if her brain was trudging through treacle, as if time itself was taking years just to tick over a single second.

“It is. I’d recommend it.” She ushered softly. Bookmarking the worn page with the folded cover, leaving it shut too on her lap.

He nodded, swallowing, shifting the cooling double latte in a takeaway cup about in his hands. Dexterous fingers cradling the drink so delicately in his long fingered grip.

“How… how, um.” His brain struggled for words now too.

“I’m well.” Libby finished quickly with a fleeting smile passing by her lips. Doing that pretty blink that he realises he sorely loved and missed. How did he manage to overlook all these years how stunning she was?

“Yourself?” She asks back, not able to stop herself from being decorous.

“…Also…” He sighed.

Hesitating. Not one to tell her he was actually here having been booted out of the flat due to having had a screaming match with Rachel about the fact she had spent nearly upwards of thirty grand on this wedding. And as Ben tried to put his foot down, she had burst into sobs and kicked him out. Saying she didn’t want to talk. She never wanted to talk. She only ever wanted three things, sex, money or material goods. And that first one on the list hadn’t happened in over three months. He was miserable, and when he saw his old, beautiful and wonderful friend, only then did he realise it. His brain then threw up the awkward reminder that it had, in fact, been quite a few silent seconds since he had spoken. And she was sat blinking prettily up at him awaiting an answer.

“…also fine.” He nodded. Substituting, tired, wet, miserably unhappy, angry and worn out for one singular word that he could never let on to her.

Libby was going to ask how Rachel was doing. But, one, she really decided that she couldn’t give enough of a toss about the silly woman. And second, because Ben looked glum and lacklustre, like all the energy and life had been sapped from him. And he had dark bags akin to heavy grey hammocks weighing down under his eyes. She didn’t need to ask how Rachel was, because his appearance confirmed how she was. Rachel was in blissful heaven, having her cake and eating at two. Whilst Ben was being put through hell, dragged through the proverbial gutter, as it were. And he didn’t know how much longer he could take it. He looked thinner too, the gash of his cheekbones in his planed face not usually so prominent. He would only let it get that hollow for his ‘Sherlock’ role. But due to all the rubbish diet crap Rachel put them both through, he looked gaunt now. Morose and gaunt. She almost didn’t recognise this spindly creature who was her former friend. The old Ben she knew could never look this tortured.

Rachel was making him wretchedly unhappy. That much she could read in his despondent figure, which was usually bursting to the brim with life and joviality.

“How’s JJ?” He asked, unable to crush down the slight bite of jealousy that his words took when he thought about the man. When he thought about them kissing. When he thought that JJ was the one who got to run his lucky hands all up and down her-

“Yeah, he’s doing alright too.” Libby quickly responded. Her words cutting off the treacherous images his mind was feeding him.

“I take it, Tom gave you my card?” He asked. Looking down at the cup in his hands as he twiddled his fingers nervously, toes fluttering in his shoes.

“Yes he did. Thankyou, for that. I sent yours in the post…” She added. Because she had. She’d posted it on the way here. Her greeting inside as equally bland and insipid as his.

He nodded, grumbling an ok, and a thankyou.

He looked out of the window to see that the rain leaking down from the sunless sky was gradually leasing. He supposed he should go home and try and patch things up with his sulking fiancé. Who probably wouldn’t speak to him for the rest of the week. And she would yet again, end up on ‘Lola’s Sofa’ texting him saying things like; _you’re always so angry with me,_ and, _you always snap at me and bite my head off, I don’t know what I do to deserve this. I don’t know what I’ve done…_

Then, he’d apologize. All would be well, eventually she’d come home. And they would make up and be friends once more until the next argument came along and they started the whole rotten cycle all over again.

“Well, I’ll leave you to the wonderful Mr Zusak alone.” He stated, glumly. Eyes flicking up to hers one last time. Maybe, if he was very lucky. It wouldn’t be the last he looked in those dreamily great sapphire eyes that he loved. But, if he walked up the aisle next June to wed Rachel Simmons, then, he supposed. It very well might be.

She gave him another fleeting smile, and that pretty little blink that she made sexy. Before he cast his eyes downwards and mumbled a faint.

“Bye Libs… Have a Merry Christmas.” Before he got to the door and pulled it open, a gust of bitter December air ruffling that flop of tousled brown curls on his head, she watched with many lost words struggling on her lips as he walked away.

“Merry Christmas. Ben..” She mumbled, seemingly to herself. As he disappeared before she could get a word in edgeways.

When in truth, she wanted to tear out of the door after him and scream, and shout things. And throw stuff at his stupidly elegant face. He had humiliated her, cast her aside, made her feel rotten and rejected. And now he just got to swan in and out with little consequence? No. That was not alright with her. Not by any stretch. She hated how they were now.

Because he had _chosen_ that path. He _chose_ prim perfect, bitchy Rachel Simmons. And the irrational and completely impolite side of her was shamefully enjoying seeing that he was getting what was due to him for the way she had been treated. She would almost go as far as to say she was glad that he was starting to realise the gravity of what he had done.

She tried to refocus her simmering with anger brain back on her book. But it was little to no use now, she was too wound up. The words didn’t grip her like they usually did. They didn’t seek to give her solace.

She put her book down and reached for what was left of the half ravished brownie and her cooling mug of tea. She was just munching noiselessly and thinking over her and her former friends grievances when a soggy and rather flustered Tessa breezed through the door and caught sight of her.

“Hey Red.” Tessa said, brows pulled together in a frown as she shrugged off her coat. Libby watched as she pointed out of the door.

“Ok, I know I am incredibly hungover, and my vision is only so/so. But I could’ve sworn I just saw…” She said shakily…

Libby nodded glumly.

“Yep. You saw…” She said in a stiff tone.

“You ok?” Tessa asked.

Libby smiled looking at her friend. Seeing her hair was straggled, her eyes were bloodshot, and she looked very tired.

“Tessa, I’m, fine, I can’t believe you’re asking me that when you only.. managed..to put eyeliner on one of your eyes…this morning….”

Libby pointed out to her bedraggled friend, leaning in closer to confirm that one eye was made up, and the other was bare, with a kind smile on her lips.

“Come on, sit down before you keel over. Do you want a cup of tea? Espresso?” Libby asked, grabbing for her purse and standing.

Tessa nodded, slumping into her seat.

“I tell you now, I’m never drinking again..” The woman whined, rubbing her temples.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself hun..” Libby cooed, placing a gentle hand on Tessa’s knee before springing up and ordering another round of tea and brownies.

 

 

~

 

 

When Libby got back home again. She wasn’t entirely all too surprised to see that JJ wasn’t up yet. Leading her to the thought that he was still in bed. Lolling around and awaiting her return to drag her into the shower and fuck her senseless.

_Sweet lord that thought makes her positively horny…_

She shut the door silently. Creeping in silently through the house, just knowing already that her sexy man was lurking somewhere upstairs, and prowling like a caged panther until she got back, was a positively mouth watering thought to her mind.

She manages to make it up the stairs and along the carpeted landing, seeing that Finn had disappeared from his usual spot on her bedroom carpet in the sunshine. He was probably now on his basket downstairs, in her study at the back of the house – snoring away…

She makes it to her pulled too bedroom door and pushes it open stepping inside.

“I’m back…”

Is the only sentence she manages to breeze out past her lips when all of a sudden she is met with a solid wall of a muscled chest ploughing into her, and sweeping her across his bare shoulder.

“Fucking _Finally_.” He growls.

As Libby is bent over his shoulder, with her ass in the air and is being ferried quickly away to her bathroom, she finds she cannot have much room to squeak at him. Secretly she supposes she enjoys this caveman-esque side of JJ more than she could ever articulate.

“Jay...”

She squawks in a half laugh.

“You walk too _fucking_ slowly.”

He growls. Voice all gravel and smoke.

When she is placed on her feet again, she is stood down in front of a wolfish looking man that once was JJ Fields, who is staring her down with eyes that are devouring her body. _Very ravenously…_

 _Oh sweet lord. Please fuck me now…_ is all she can think.

Almost as if he can read her thoughts, his smirk grows before he rips her coat off and throws it on the floor behind him, tossing it away as she looks at him whilst biting her bottom lip and trying not to look at turned on as she feels

_Which is a lot…._

“Undress.Now”

He commands in little patience with a smile that is all fox, and usually, Libby’s sparkling on form wit would have something to come back at him to parry with, but now she doesn’t even try and resist him. Because she knows the punishment from him would be a dark black series of love bites which she would see and feel.

_for weeks afterwards._

She continues to bite her lip as she draws her jumper up and off her arms and throws it behind him. His eyes watching and drinking in the sight of her as she moved. Stood there looking like a sexy fantasy of hers with burning blue eyes, and abs so tough they could grate marble, dressed in naught but black sleep pants riding low on his carved hips, hair mussed from sleep. She swares only fantasy misters in penny novelettes look like this. Look this sinfully fuckable.

_Oh, Mr Fields, You have no clue how badly I want you right now…_

She thinks as she shucks off her boots and socks, he is perfectly unawares of the dripping lust which is pooling at the apex of her thighs, left now just in her simple jeans and t-shirt, very aware of his eyes scrutinising every new bare inch of her skin. Wherever his eyes swiped, a flush of heat rippled over her. She could almost _feel_ him watching.

Now stood only in jeans and a vest top, she looks over at him, holding her hands out to present herself.

“Undressed enough for what you had in mind?” She asks with cheekiness.

His answer is one risen brow in the silent expression of ‘don’t be daft, of course it isn’t’ kind of way, which lets her know she is going to be fucked raw when he gets her naked. Her comment causing him to slam his body into hers, tearing off the flimsy see through shirt, and shoving her jeans so hard down over her magnificent ass and hips she swore she heard them rip. Her breath hitches a notch. As she now is left in some silly lacy pants that are doing a shoddy job of containing the lust that now seeps down her thighs. He had made quick work of unhooking the bra that kept her mouth watering breasts in place, of which his hands now instantly grope at. Rolling across the heavy flesh as her nipples perk up into his hands.

 _Oh, please, I can’t wait for this anymore! Touch me, fuck me, lick me, please! Anything!_ Her brain begs.

But he doesn’t. and she doesn’t know whether to scream or pay him back for that all in due course. Because she watches as he crosses to her large shower, and switches it on so steamy water soon fills up the space, fogging up the glass door of her shower.

Libby finds she can barely register what happens next before the only thing she knows is being jostled into the shower, naked, her back pressed up against the smooth cold tile as he presses her there, and pins her with the solid muscle that makes up all six feet of him. And when his hot lips slip and slide onto hers with a wet jet of hot water cascading over his shoulder to sweep down over her.

There is no hint here of the sweet compassionate JJ who would make love to her with careful tenderness, sweeping her hair gently out of the way and kissing softly up her neck. Not the man who would buy her roses and take her out to dinner. No. This man was made purely to drive a woman out of her head. To fuck her senseless til her throat was hoarse, her thighs quivered with nothing but pleasure and she couldn’t even walk. This man would pull and drag her hair out of the way if it displeased him so. He would bite her neck and make her scream his name as he pounded into her, fucking her with wild disabandonment into pure red hot ecstasy. He had a smile that was pure rascal, no hint of the gentleman before him. He was all wolf now, and why would she ever want a gentleman?

 _Wolves know how to eat._ She thought crudely.

Because she can tell that is what he wants to do right now. His left arm was clutching her waist in a demandingly forceful way – but she had no complaints – pulling her entire body against the length of his own. His other hand slid down and captures and hooks her thick thigh up around his waist, which in turn causes her to shudder out a breath, because that movement causes his throbbing hard cock to slip invitingly across her dripping wet core. Libby whimpered into his mouth as his lips went to the side of her neck, the heat and wetness of her is astonishing in such closed quarters. So close now, he could smell that heavenly scent that is her arousal. The very essence of her which was now drenching the head of his cock as he purposely shifted his hips to jut into her further. Rubbing up against her clit as she keens and cries with need, biting those full lips with that luscious red hair plastered across her face. As she cried out for him, moaning little pleas for him.

 _Sweet holy fuck, Jay. I want you. I want you, Now!_ She thinks.

“Sweetheart, you’ve no idea how hard I’m going to fuck you… ”       

He growls in a promise, manoeuvring his hips to rub against her yet again.

 _Oh, some. I have, some, idea…_ She thought weakly.

Then, It was that small move again, just twitching his hips forwards into her, but so cruel considering she was prostrate in his arms, wet pink core splayed open for him to toy with. And toying with her, he was.

 _Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please. I can’t take this,_ she wants to sob.

Because he had done this last night too. This shameful tactic of coaxing her closer and closer over the edge and then stopping, getting her wound up to cum, then leaving her, slowing whatever it was he was doing to her. Whether it was feasting and slurping at her sweet wet little pussy, greedily and hungrily with his tongue as she was spread eagled wide beneath him, lapping across her taut clit over and over and over and over... Or rubbing and hitting every spot inside of her with those long dexterous fingers. He would bring her to the brink time and time again, denying her before he dived back in and gave her an orgasm so powerful she swares she saw stars and forgot she had neighbours she was screaming so loud.

“Would you like me to fuck you? Libby? Slide my cock into you balls deep and fuck you, hard, right here in my arms, like this?”

He asks. Wavy hair now wet, his curls dripping down onto his shoulders as his slippery pale skin which was packed underneath with muscles, was gripping tight onto her. His eyes looked fantastically stormy, and his smile was suspiciously like that of the big bad wolf she spoke of earlier.

She nods, sighing, little gasps slipping from her lips. Right now she's so horny and worked up, she’s sure if he just touches her she’ll explode into a screaming orgasm.

 _Yes, yes. A thousand times yes. How many languages can I say yes in?_ she wonders _(Atleast 6_ her brain points out)

With that, she feels his arm which had been gripping across her waist slowly slide away. Letting her leg stand down on the shower floor once more. As his palms come to slide down over her slippery front to both grab at her heaving wet breasts. Which he took into both hands, feeling how her nipples puckered up into his warm palms. He smirked at the feel of them.

“Have I ever told you how much I love these? Hm?” He asks.

Libbys answer is a timid shake of her head as she bit her lip again. she was pretty sure her brain had forgotten how to string words together. Now it would just look like alphabetti spaghetti soup. A mush of useless letters once this man started seducing her.

Which he then goes on to show as he slides downonto his knees, crouching to take one wet peak into his mouth, rolling around the soft stiff peak with his tongue until he feels her squirm away from the bracket of his body, for it being too good. Its almost an unbearable type of pleasure. Too nondescript. She needed action, fulfilment, not more teasing. And, yet again, almost as if he is reading along her brainwaves. He answers all her prayers and pleas.

“But you know what I love doing to you most…”

He growls, as his hands slide further south, his lips hitting her belly to ghost across the hot surface of her skin. In a way that makes her nearly jump out of said skin.

As he comes to the apex of her thighs, where her sweet scented arousal is weeping out of her, it becomes quite apparent what he likes doing to her most. Which is made evidently clear when he slowly edges her slippery thighs apart, and sneaks his tongue across her wet folds.

She yelps so loud she finds the hand that isn’t latching into his wet tresses, slams across her mouth to stem her cries. She can _feel_ him smirk against her clit as he smiles.

“Come on, you can yell louder than that..”

He urges, slamming his tongue deep as far as he could go, lapping and licking her out so skilfully she has to clamp her teeth down on her lip and remind herself that staying upright was vital. No one wanted to die wet and naked in the shower being savagely eaten out by their boyfriend.

Although, as ways to go, went, it wasn’t all _that_ bad.

He clamps his hands about her thighs, getting used to the rhythm at which her hips were hitting and rutting against his face, helping work herself into that stunning orgasm he denied her of earlier. And he could tell she was close as he made sure to flutter his eyes up to make direct contact with her own, making sure she could _see him_ as he licked her out with maddening skill. And as it usually does, the sight sends her wild. Toes curling, hand fisted so hard into his hair she's not sure she even cares if it hurts him. Because now she is just starting to fall over that sweet edge where her body feels like its being plucked apart, and then she gives one last keening buck and cry, and she is gushing her orgasm all across his lips and all she knows is that JJ is a veritable god at going down on her.

Her moans subside as he finishes lapping up each drop of arousal he had made burst out of her, before he slides up her body and captures her lips in a kiss, crushing her into him again. Thrusting her leg up over his hip, but this time

_Oh, this time…_

It’s so nail bitingly much better, because now, he lines his stiff cock up with her clit and slides all the way into her until she finishes moaning into his lips. She would never not love when he did that. And all Libby could think was;

_I still want more._

Because even when he had buried his raging hard on inside her, and she could feel all delicious 9 inches of him rubbing up against all the heavenly feeling spots inside her. She still wanted to be closer. Like she wanted to lose herself in him. Inhale him. Never part from him when they fucked like this.

She heard him grunt with male pride as he started the wet slick and plunge of beginning to vigorously fuck her. But, then she was reminded who exactly was in charge as he pulled sharply out of her, leaving her feeling empty and literally aching as his wide girth wasn’t stretching her open anymore.

She is spun round like she's at the bloody ice capades, and before she registers it, she is shoved up against the harsh tile of the shower wall in front of her, his chest to her back. Crushing her sensitive nipples to the rough grain of the tiles to her front. And he drives into her in one fell swoop. And she hears the velvet rasp that is his voice scratch against her ear as he snarls;

“Now, I would much rather, fuck, with you facing me so I can watch your face as I make you cum again. But I really want to take you from behind, so you know…”

With each coming word that he let drop from his hips, he accentuated the pauses by drilling his hips deep into her so she knows who has the upper hand here. Who was branding her, who was fucking her.

“I. am. In. control.” He states. And she swares hands down that between his gravelled voice, and the tiles stimulating her chest with each slick to and fro thrust, that he won’t have to be incontrol of fucking her for very long.

 _Yes._ _Yes._ _Yes._

She wails inside her head as he starts to pound, every move of his gathering sparks in her clit that thrashed up and down her entire body.

The pressure between his and her body was starting to build. Libby had to bite her lip and not try and focus on the deliciously strange friction of what being fucked into the rough shower tiles felt like against her stiff nipples. All she can hear is the sheer, wet and shrewd unaltered sounds of their fucking. Hips slamming together, wetness slapping between their skin as he fucked her. How every snap of his hips met with her ass as he pounded faster and faster until she feels nothing but a blur of pleasure. And all the while he Is growling filthily good things into her ear that help take her apart.

Taking her apart, _Piece, by excruciating, but oh so fucking good, piece…._

He whispers things like how tight she is, how right she feels, and how much he loves eating her out before he fucks her like this. And how much he wishes he could fuck her until she was red raw from cumming.

His fingers found new joy in reaching round her front and stroking and teasing her to make sure that when she comes, it is no mean deal. He was rubbing her, toying her, teasing with her. She can do nothing but feel all of him, each rock hard centimetre as it plows into her, stoking pleasure and making her closer and closer to screaming his name through a skyrocketing orgasm.

Just as she nearly reaches that sweet goal and tumbles into her orgasm, He tears out of her. and she nearly whimpers, but, finds she doesn’t have time, because she was spun round again and heaved into his arms, making sure her legs were locked in place around his waist as she was pushed into the wall in order to help him hold her up. Her arms going about his neck as he continued the pace now, she can better hear and see that long cock and his thick shaft twisting in and out of her as he spread her open and pounds her hard.

Libby felt his mouth covering her own. Infused with drops of water from the still piping hot shower, as he still bared the taste of her on his lips. The kiss only seemed to encourage him as with each thrust he sought to get deeper and deeper until she's damn sure that when she cums, she’s going to have every neighbour from three streets away at her door asking her if she was being brutally tortured and murdered. But the view now best allowed her to look into the face of the handsome man who was fucking her into oblivion – just as he promised – watching as her head rolled backwards and his mouth came forwards to bite and tear at her neck with his teeth. Her sopping wet folds welcoming him deep with each plunge.

He was relieved to know he had succeeded in making sure she had several dark bruises scattered across the skin of her neck that she would feel tomorrow. And for the not far off future.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Libs. But god help me, I want to fuck you like this, all day, every fucking day.” He curses, teeth clenched as he too, was clearly reaching the end of his tether as it were.

“Oh jay…” She squeaks, shes so invitingly close now she can almost taste it, and her head is starting to swim.

“That’s it Lucky.” He growls thrusting ever deeper. “Scream my _fucking_ name. let everyone know whose fucking you!” He growls.

And it was with one final deep bucking of his hips that she came. Thighs clenching him tight as she yelled and screamed his name. Eyes screwed tight, Spots dancing across her eyes as she gushed – once again – all over him and his cock. Of which set him off as he began to pound faster and faster until he eventually keened one last time, slowly grunting and breathing into her neck as his cum leaked out of her, dripping away down their thighs.

Libby gave a meagre sigh, dropping her head back to rest on the damp shower tiles behind her.

JJ leans forwards and smacks soft little raining kisses on the bruises he put on her neck. Scooping her wet hair out of the way, the still warm water beating down off them both.

“I don’t believe I touched on tis earlier, But I was going to say I’m going to attempt to make the most of our time together before you have to leave for Oxford to go to your parents tomorrow.” He gruffed, voice hoarse from sex, and all the commands he had issued her.

Libby carted one hand through the back of his wet warm hair, smiling up at him, ignoring the fact that he was still inside her, with their orgasms flowing down each others legs. Away with the hot water down the drain.

“I think you managed that darling.” Libby winked. He adored her when she did that.

“How are we ever going to top the day off now?” He asked in a cheeky manner.

She thought for a long second.

“Wash, get out, dry off, pyjamas. Duvet on sofa, order in Chinese, drink all of the leftover booze and watch The Father Ted Christmas Special?” She suggested.

He placed a smacking kiss on her lips.

“Read my mind, Lucky.” He beamed. “You seem to have a penchant for knowing what I want..” He flirted.

“I should hope so Fields, you are still inside me, that’s no time to act coy.” She laughed.

He kissed her again. But really, just wanted to shut her up.

 

~


	10. It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas...

 

 

It was a bitterly cold afternoon when Libby’s door was pulled open from the inside, the warm air escaping out onto the December-esque street, the cold licking her cheeks.

 

Libby had bundled herself into her thickest wool grey coat, the waist tugged tight and the collar pulled high. On her bottom half she had thick denim jeans stretched over her legs, and her feet were stuffed into her warm tan UGG boots. She was just knotting a tartan scarf about her neck. And one certain Mr Fields was stood opposite her, revelling in the fact that it was 1:30am and she was up, dressed, caffeinated and ready to go, when she could have been lazily lolloping about with him in bed, having some more sex.

He had run her luggage out and tucked it into the boot of her little red mini not five minutes ago. They decided the night beforehand they’d have breakfast/brunch/lunch together before she had to get on the road to be at her parents for tonight for Christmas Eve tomorrow, after a long morning spent in bed together..

 

“Don’t forget, yours and Fin’s presents are under the tree…”

 

She smiled. Tucking her red curls outside of her scarf. Smiling gently at her beautiful boyfriend who she was loathed to part from. He chuckled at the fact that she had brought Finley something.

 

“I won’t forget. I’ll take _an extra_ if you’re in a particularly giving mood…”

 

He waggled with sleepy brows, keeping a hand about the back of her waist, reeling her closer to give her another slow, long practiced smooch. That was the sixth in five minutes. It was his way of trying in vain to keep her here. They had shared a rather fantastic night under her covers last night by way of a farewell shag, and Libby could tell he would be straight back in her bed after she left him. He was still half asleep now, they’d had a long night after all, his marbled blue eyes were droopy and voice husky from sleep after they’d dozed off after some great sex earlier on in the morning. He’d only cradled a warm cup of coffee in his hands for his breakfast/brunch, not touching food. That told her a lot. His usual jovial spirit was not as chipper on this fine freezing early afternoon. He had dressed himself in seconds in what he had worn yesterday, in a crumpled, tea stained, blue dress shirt and his expensive jeans. Stood barefoot on her cold stone doorstep, here to wave her off.

 

She chuckled as she let him reel her closer, one hand of hers dragging through his hair as he gave her a quick lazy smooch on the lips now instead. Examining her lovingly.

 

“Are you going to be alright on your own for Christmas?”

 

She asked for about the billionth time. Her heart was aching in the respect that she had to leave him all alone to drive begrudgingly for two and a half hours, down to her parent’s and family in Oxford.

 

He smiled at her, hands till hooked to her waist. Giving her a mega watt smile that could melt diamonds.

 

“I’m very sure. Besides. Looks like I have to bring it up now, and I was hoping to be able to put it off. But..” He paused, sighing.

 

She tilted her head at him, a diffident look that soothingly urged him on.

 

“Neeve wants to see me. She wants to meet for coffee, later on today.”

 

He swallowed, judging her reaction to the news of his ex who had gotten back in touch with him. Seeming to the woman like it was time for a reunion with her on/off lover.

 

“ _Oh..”_

Libby spoke, eyes searching off to the side as she thought for a moment… She wasn’t exactly shocked, but at the same time, it was rather out of the blue a little for her to comprehend as to the reasons behind it.

 

“Look, If it flips you out, I can blow her off..”

 

He offered, seeing she was trying to cope with the thought.

 

She closed her eyes, smiling as she led a hand on his arm that held her close.

 

“Don’t do that.” She instructed.

 

“See how she is, and why she wanted to meet you. She could be missing you, you know...” Libby

 

He tilted his head, dragging his fingers through her hair.

 

“I’m not missing her.” He grinned like the bad enraptured rascal he was.

 

She gave him her five star stern look.

 

“You are completely wicked, JJ Fields.” She summarised.

 

“I would say send her my wishes, but, I’m probably not her favourite person in the world right now. Dare I say I may be a _sore_ point to her.”

 

“No, she likes you. The woman before you she can’t stand. And, I know I probably shouldn’t tell you this. But she always kept _one beady_ eye on you. The Lucky one that got away.” He narrowed his eyes, smiling down to her.

 

“I didn’t get very far.” She pointed out, gesturing to where they were now. Shagging on a regular basis and half having moved in with one another.

 

He chuckled.

 

“That’s very true.” He grinned.

 

“Anyway.” Libby sighed. “Best get this show on the road…” She groaned, looking across the courtyard to her little red car, Jj rubbed her back to soothe her groans of displeasure.

 

“Slide the keys in the hidden place after I leave?” He asked.

 

“If you’d be so kind…”

 

She smiled, leaning in to pucker a kiss across his lips. Her car keys pressing to his back in her palm as he tugged her into a hug. She relaxed against his lean wide torso. Inhaling deep the Paco Rabanne scent that she would crave for when she was away. And the heat of him, his skin radiating warmth from under his thin shirt. He was like the most handsome radiator for her.

 

She pulled away. To see he was pouting sadly down at her, flexing those long fingers to sweep a stray hair out of her eyes. Looking at her like a pouting puppy. Just the way Fin did as he clacked up behind them both, pushing the door wide enough for him to get out behind JJ, coming and nuzzling his snout into her thigh. Looking at her with those big sad eyes that she found irresistible. As was his owner.

 

“See? He’s gonna miss you too…” He whined sulkily.

 

“I’m a phone call away. And back home on the 29th.”

 

She offered, hoping that would help ease the aching burden.

 

She granted him one last very lippy smooch before she sauntered away into the cold morning, heading away to the car.

 

“Who am I gonna shag?” He grumbled moodily.

 

“Tom’s around. I know you’re _rather fond_ of him…”

 

Libby winked cheekily, having walked down the garden path. Latching the gate shut behind her for Fin’s sake.

 

“I’d get you for that, but you’re too far away now…” He moaned lazily. Keeping his hands warm by shoving them deep in his jean pockets. Wiggling his toes to keep them warm.

 

“Keep those lips warmed up for me until I get back.”

 

She shouted across from her car, opening the door ready to swing in. Looking back across at her most lovely lover on her doorstep.

 

“Consider it done.” He called back. Watching as she swung into her car.

 

He heard the engine start, watched her swing out of the drive with one last wink and a wave to him. He returned the wave, watching as the zippy little car pulled into the traffic, zooming away down the road. He swallowed, just watching the space where the car had been for several minutes.

 

He looked down to his side as Fin lolloped his butt down onto the floor, whining up at JJ.

 

“You’re gonna miss her too, huh bud?” He asked.

 

Fin whined again, looking out, unable to understand where Libby had gone.

 

JJ ruffled his auburny silky ears.

 

“Yeah. I know the feeling. Not the same without Lucky, Huh boy?”

 

Fin sneezed.

 

JJ nodded to himself and partially to his pal. Looking back out the drive as he patted Fin’s head, as if she had suddenly decided to turn back.

 

“Really, _really_ not the same.”

 

He muttered sadly. Meaning the statement in so many more ways than one. Patting his dog on the head one last time. Before he stepped inside and shut the door.

 

Missing his Lover like mad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

Libby sighed with relief pulling her zippy little car into the familiar long drive. She rolled her neck on her shoulders, starting to ache from the driving, straining back and forth for near on five solid hours. The traffic had been particularly bad today. Plus she was dying to change into her pyjamas and eat tonnes of Chinese food as per Turner Christmas family tradition. It didn’t help that she had stopped for a hot cup of tea at a garage on the way, and it really didn’t help when she managed to spill a large dribble of hot tea in her lap, staining her jeans. Luckily no scalding had taken place. She was crabby because there had been a traffic diversion due to road works near Bethnal Green, which took her a further _2 hours_ to get out of London.

 

She wiped a hand down across her face, it had taken so long to get here, it was nearly night time now. The sky had long since tinted into evening, which only made her all the more groggy and didn’t help improve her mood. Plus she was missing JJ like mad. And now more than ever, her brain kept leading her back to a person who she knew she shouldn’t even _go near…_

 

But Christmas in London always reminded her of Ben.

 

She sighed, her heart going all stabby, cold and spiky as she thought of him. He was probably at his parents little cottage in Surrey. There with Wanda and Tim, and his new Bride, Rachel, for Christmas. Rachel didn’t deserve such wonderful kind people as her in-laws. She didn’t deserve Ben, either. They probably have their traditional board game fest, followed closely by one of Wanda’s _amazing_ Christmas roast dinners, and then a festive black and white movie to top it all off. She knew, because she’d spent a few Christmas’s with them, here and there. When her own parent’s were away cruising, or in Cornwall visiting relatives. And she loved that tradition, it was sad all the things she had to mourn now due to the passing of her standing as Ben’s best friend. But instead, he had elected to go for a woman who would probably conceive that board games were ‘too childish’ for her to play, and that she daren’t even think about having _ANY_ roast for fear of what it would do to her waistline. And instead of getting caught up in the magic and glamour of the classic movie, she’d probably whine that it was ‘too old’ and ‘dull’ and sit yacking away to her friend through her blackberry for the entire thing.

 

She gripped the steering wheel tight, wanting to dent it in her hands out of sheer anger and frustration. One lonely bitter tear tracked its way down her cheek. She scoffed at her own stupid-ness and jerked her arm across her face to wipe it away. Angry with herself that she had let her crabbiness morph into sadness.

 

She shook her head, adjusting her body, seeing that as she finally came into the drive, that she was evidently going to struggle to find a car parking space. And this said a lot, their front drive measured nearly an acre.

 

She frowned. Leading up the numerous stone steps to her front door, seeing that underneath the huge twin holly wreaths, trimmed with the family tartan bows, there was a hand drawn sign that read:

 

_“We are In! Please come on in strictly for party business.”_

Libby sighed, grinding her teeth down together as she managed to squeeze next to a silver Aston Martin. Scrambling out into the cold, and going to the boot for her bag. She tugged it out and lugged it all the way across the drive, huffing all the way. A bloody _party_ of all things, one night before Christmas eve. And she had an uncanny feeling, she knew exactly whom had planned it…..

 

She got to the door, rolling her eyes in extreme irritation at the sign, again, seeing that extra care had been taken to twine fairy lights around the clipped bushes in pots that lined either side of her front door. Aswell as a couple of metal candle lanterns flickering away in the evening breeze. She grit her teeth, mentally preparing herself to step inside her old home.

 

It was no secret that Libby’s family were enormously wealthy. And this didn’t just apply to her parents…

One thing that not many knew about her, was that Libby Turner, was actually her title at it’s _bare_ minimum.

Her real title was _Lady_ Elizabeth Violet Turner, her Father was the Earl of Oxford and Buckinghamshire, and her Mother was the Countess.

She never used her full title.

  _Never._

Not that she was ashamed of it, just because she was too headstrong and independent to go through life ploughing a identify before her like a bulldozer to knock people down or impress them with.

She wouldn’t go as far to exclaim that she was of a huge disappointment to her parent’s. But she hadn’t turned out _exactly_ as they had hoped.

It would have been nicer and more convenient for them to have a polite, classically educated girl schooled at the slough comprehensive’s, and to then flawlessly and graciously attend public events, looking pretty, elegant and ever so perfect.

 _Instead of such,_  they had a fiercely autonomous girl, who was completely dependent on herself from the day she learned to crawl, the girl who dyed her hair blood red when she was sixteen, had several ear piercings, tattoos and wore nothing but the same tattered Sex Pistol’s t-shirt for nigh on three years straight. And instead of behaving like a highborn Lady should, she would be the rebellious punk rocker kid at the back of the class, doodling the time away - even though she had more than enough brains to take on any obstacle she came across. The same girl who would also sneak out of school with a friend to go take in a Clash concert in Brixton rather than go to her maths lessons.

 

What was worse, was that her total self-governing lifestyle, meant that her and her mother never _quite_ saw eye to eye.

 

They still behaved like mum and kid, and they were as close as best friends. But never could they forget she didn’t accept a single penny from them all her life. She worked hard the moment she graduated from her secondary school with shining grades, working her ass of to pay off her loans and ferried herself away to Manchester to Uni as soon as she was able. Leaving her parent’s somewhat in the lurch, and their pride damaged, if only a little.

 

 

Everyone always said she had been born lucky, she respectfully disagreed. She wanted to _work_ for everything she owned. Not owe it all to _Daddy's money_ , like every single one of the spoilt brats she attended school with. Her Father didn’t mind at all, compared to how much her mother did. Ask him personally, and Edmund Arthur Cadwell Turner, The Right Honourable Earl of Oxford and Buckinghamshire would tell you he could not be _more_ proud of the person who his daughter had become. She was his greatest pride, and as such, he often took great lengths to remind her of this when her mother sought to contradict it at Libby's every turn.

 

He loved how she didn’t let her blue-blood heritage rule her life. She was self-reliant, and that was _no_ harmful thing. Of course she had a mind and skills that had been shaped by some of the finest schools money could buy, and she was brighter than anyone he had ever known. But she didn’t let their entitlement make her a useless figurehead of a person. She did what she loved, and she loved what she did. He adored her for that, because such fiery liberation is exactly the path _he_ would have taken if he were in her shoes. Given the choice between a title and a Life of her own making, and she had chosen the latter. 

\- more like she had grabbed that latter with both hands. Her mother would oft remark.  

 

After having wrangled her way inside, crossing the short distance up past the lobby stairs to the Kitchen and the informal dining area, and Libby could see that her mother had spared no luxury for this evening soiree. She could see vast crowds of people all in evening dress, posh suits and warm shift dresses adorned every man and woman. Aswell as the chatter of laughter and glasses clinking as a general nattering buzz that drifted to the ceiling of the house. She stepped aside as a waiter in coat and tails swept her by. A tray of champagne glasses full to the brim balanced seamlessly on his hand. She looked past him, into the second kitchen that was in use to see her five cousins swarmed about the counter, next to may empty glasses of drink, all three siblings and two of their counterparts shouting at some board game as they played. The eldest straightened and caught sight of her first. Her stomach sank as she saw he too, was kitted out in a tux. Which meant she was _definitely_ well within the realms of being underdressed. 

 

Hugh was the eldest of the three, and he had a fiancé, the lovely and ever wonderful Lottie.

 

The second youngest was the middle child, the only girl, Rosie, and next to her, was her long time partner, Alfie.

 

The third, the baby of the group, and the only one without a partner was the cheeky and energetic cousin who was just 18 months her senior, Charlie.

 

She said five cousins, because she loved the other two whom her cousins were dating so much, and had grown so used to them, ultimately considering them family when it came down to it…

 

You could tell the three of them were siblings, they all had the same buttery colouring of hair, and milk-skinned complexion. (Their mother, was Libby's Aunt. Her Mothers Sister) The only difference between them all was the varying height. He may have been the youngest but Charlie stood tall three heads above his older brother and sister. And he was the only one to have grey eyes, rather than corn-flower blue like his siblings did.

 

“What’s the meaning of all this?”

 

She asked in perplexity as she crossed to give Hugh a kiss. And Lottie shortly after. Charlie and Alf’s were still busy destroying each other at Buckaroo. Lottie leaned in for a kiss after Hugh did.

 

“Your mum decided to throw it. Didn’t you know?”

 

Rosie asked, leaning in for a kiss and a hug. Libby and Rosie had always been the two girls at Christmas dressed in matching pyjamas. They were thicker than thieves. The age gap not anywhere near an issue for them.

 

“Does this look like the face of someone who knows that my mother decided to old a black tie party?” Libby asked wryly.

 

She had a piss poor drive to get here which took far longer than it should have, she was wearing stained jeans and uggs. She was also damn sure most of her makeup had disintegrated, and that her hair looked like she had slept rough last night. Now was not the time to turn up at home, to an impromptu black tie do. Not on _any_ watch.

 

“Careful. I saw her talking to loads of single men not long ago. She could be trying her hand at introductions..”

 

Charlie grinned collapsing and leaning on her, engulfing her into a hug.

 

Her mood soured at hearing what her mother was getting up too. She didn’t know whether she wanted to _laugh_ or _cry._

 

Alf broke away from the game, greeting her, his beefy rugby playing stance gripping her into a hug she was helpless to resist.

 

“To be honest, I think we all wish we were dressed like you..” He pointed out somewhat helpfully.

 

“Careful. My mother will smite you for that kind of treacherous talk..” Libby warned glumly, he laughed.

 

Lottie handed her a fresh glass of tingling champagne. Libby smiled gratefully before she tipped it all back in one gulp.

 

“Oh, look. Charlie, Hugh, you’re loosing. Alf’s winning…”

 

Rosie pointed out, the girls watched as the boys crowded around the game once more, yelling and hollering at the board.

 

Lottie and Rosie swept Libby aside, letting their tired looking cousin collapse into the bay window, slopping her body down onto the cushions, handing her more champers as she huffed. She frowned at them both accusingly.

 

“We heard about that business with Ben, your mum filled us in..”

 

Rosie spoke softly. Taking a moment to savour the girly talk whilst all the boys were distracted.

 

Libby rolled her eyes. _Fantastic…_ she remarked to herself dryly.

 

“Not to mention some tabloids are going nuts over it..”

 

Lottie added, wincing. Fearing for her cousins reaction.

 

Libby smiled softly. What else could she do? She’d shed enough tears over the matter. Gotten fuming plenty enough times for it all. She was running out of emotions for Benedict…

 

Well. That was a lie. There was one _very plain_ one left that she daren’t face up too… (an ‘L’ to start, A ‘V’ for third, an ‘O’ in the middle of those, and a ‘E’ on the end)

 

“It Is what it is.”

 

Libby offered in a very placid way, sighing. Even though thinking over it all still hurt like a fresh new wound, she couldn’t say more than that. Maybe, one day, she could. In ten years, if Ben was still married to Rachel. Maybe then she could declare how she felt to herself, but until such a time. Her punishment was her own silence on the matter.

 

She supped back another mouthful of drink, before she decided that she had best go announce her arrival to her dear parents.

 

“Hold onto this for me..” Libby asked, serving the drink back to Rosie.

 

“If I’m not back here in half an hour, send a rescue S.W.A.T team to wrestle me out..”

 

She grumped, shuffling away through the crowds, her battle face strapped on, to deal with her Mother.

 

“Do you think this party was an Intro evening at Beck’s planning for Libs?” Rosie asked Lottie.

 

Lottie shrugged.

 

“If it is, then I gather Auntie B’s in for an earful.”

 

She supposed. Rosie made a face to that. Their cousin was known for her self-reliance and furiously uncontrolled nature. The set up party would _not_ suit her well…

 

Libby dipped and ducked for all her life. How many people were there? Everywhere she turned, she saw nothing but crowds of black suits. That was, until she caught a glimpse of Uncle Terry and Aunt Sam. Looks like they were over from Minorca for Christmas Holidays. Terry was her Father’s Brother, and he was as gay as they came. Aunt Sam was a perfect match for the man, he was as _exuberant_ and as flouncy as ever there were a man with a desire to be.

The both of them always wore ghastly appalling suits. And tonight was no different. Terry was a middle aged man, but still saw no reason for a man of his stout beer gutted size to not enjoy wearing a purple tweed waistcoat. And trousers and jacket to match. Aunt Sam was the same, he wore a wild yellow paisley pattern that looked like her grans curtains in the 70’s. She just knew if she asked about it, he’d simply purr _‘Vintaaaaaage Darling’_ in a way that would make her peel into laughter. She loved the two of them, they had been the ones who had gifted her their old fire house in Chelsea after she finished Uni as a present, not having to owe a mortgage really helped her debts as a student, and as they were headed out to Spain they insisted she have the house for good - to her mothers dismay who'd rather have her back at home in attempts to groom her into noble life. She smiled. Thinking of her house in London. Or, as they liked to label it, amusingly, their pad in the ‘Gay Man’s Stretch’ of Chelsea, the ‘Queens Heaven and Burrow.’ They called it.

 

She smiled, ducking past the both of them as they talked spiritedly to some people gaggled into the informal living room. Libby weaved past more people, smiling politely, hoping they didn’t get too much of a good look at her straggled outfit that was very much out of place in the sea of D&G dresses and fine tailored suits. As she made her way through each room trying to spot her mother, she saw that she had been passionately liberal with the X-mas decorations. The place looked like a white company catalogue about to shoot for their Winter edition. Everywhere you turned there were real trees strung with décor, lights, ribbons. Wreaths and festive garlands hung high, looped off every wall. Fireplaces were lit, roaring madly away in every room. Making the atmosphere toasty and pleasant. Finally, Libby got to the orangery at the back of the house, able to see the lit up garden behind it. But there she could finally make out the back of the person she was itching to find...

 

Libby owed her curvy good looks to her mother, she supposed. But aside from that, everything else, she got from her father. Humour and wit, looks, eyes, independent nature. It was all owed to Edmund Turner. Rebecca Turner, however, or, how she should be formally known, The Countess of Oxford and Buckinghamshire, Rebecca Caroline Louise Turner, was the sole reason for _why_ Libby looked the way she did. She had been a woman of pure glamour in her youth, and she was still, she supposed. She wasn’t overly tall, but she wasn’t lacking body shape.

 

She had the same set of clock-stop-dead curves that her daughter possessed owed to a wide bust, tiny waist, and big hips and thighs. Growing up, she had taught Libby to love her body the same way she did. It was quite a healthy ethic, really.

Libby was always told, _‘Us Turner girls are not lacking in shape, yes, our thighs bosoms, and tummies may be larger than most, but you know what, that is ok. Just because we don’t look like the women in magazines, doesn’t mean we don’t look like women at all, matter of fact we look far more feminine than any of those skeletal model girls do…’_ She would always preach. And Libby was silently thankful she was raised by a woman with such an ethic. She wasn’t raised under a stupid exercise dominated and restricted rabbit diet regime. Her mother taught her self love, and contained confidence in her own skin.

 

More than that, she had taught her happiness. Only, it came to the Elder Mrs Turner to a surprise when her only daughter then followed a path of utter self resourcefulness as a consequence of her quest for happiness.

 

The Countess had short blonde and brown streaked wisps of thick hair, a similar cut to the one Meg Ryan sported in ‘You’ve Got Mail’ and that was always the style she would insist she wanted to the hairdresser. She’d had the short pixie cut ever since Libby had known the woman. And her smile was one that contained perfectly bleached white teeth that formed a perfect smile when she laughed, and tonight her teeth were framed by a slick of red lipstick to her lips. She also had pearl droplet earrings hanging down off her lobes, that jittered as she laughed at something the young man in front of her said. Tonight she wore a simple dress, it was a ruched emerald-mossy green colour with a simple V-neck cut, enhancing her milk like skin that seemed to run in her side of the family. She also had a champagne glass in her hand, and a sheer black throw about her shoulders, and black velvet heeled pumps on her feet. Every inch the elegant high class woman. 

 

Libby crossed to her, giving a curt smile to those she stood gaggled about with. She took advantage of a gap in the conversation to announce herself, as laughter followed something her mother had said, and the woman herself took a sip of her drink not long after. Libby steeled her loins for the conversation she was about to throw herself into, _It was a position akin to preparing for battle…_

 

“Hi Mum.”

 

Libby spoke with bland gentleness. A kind smile to her lips, watching as the young leech of a man opposite them scanned her up and down, licking his lips as he did.

 

 

He was one _of those_ types. Instantly from the sight of him, you could tell his family dripped money, diamonds, and Bentleys.

 

He had a cosmetically enhanced smile of whitened huge - horse like - teeth and probably had a job in land management or something posh and twat like to suit his low purpose in life. He was all, ancestral quif, land rovers, and hunting, type of jolly posh chap. A true rugger bugger, and Libby winced as he continued visually dissecting her under her tight jeans and uggs. _Okay_ , she knew as much as in that her jumper showed off the outline of her large breasts, but the way he was staring at them was as if he was wishing he had x-ray vision that could peer _through_ her clothes.

 

“ _Darling_.”

 

Her mother chirped happily, turning to her daughter, putting a hand to her back, and raising one shrewd eyebrow at the fact her daughter looked like she had just wandered out of the house, having thrown on something that looked like it needed a good iron. Had she grabbed clothes out of her laundry basket? The jeans had stains on them, _for heavens sake… she looked like she had just been turfed out of a refugee camp in Ghana.._

 

“… There is some fascinating explanation as to your state I’m sure..”

 

The Countess remarked, the gaggle of people about her chuckled. Libby watched as young Mr-ancestral-Eton-his-pompous-twatship guffawed into a bout of unattractive laughter. _Good god, even his laugh sounded posh…_

 

“Yes. A rather long car journey and a too hot cup of tea, I’m afraid. May I have a word?”

 

Libby explained to the group, ignoring them to then turn to her mother.

 

“In a moment, dear. May I introduce you to Reginald William Rexword Longhurst..”

 

She explained, as the royal- quiffed –horse -teeth-of-ruggery-buggery-ness man stepped forward and extended his hand to her with a leering smile and a ‘Charmed’ slithering out in his overly high-class accent. The kind that almost sounded _so posh_ it _hurt._

 

Libby’s eyes widened at his name, how he did not keel over from hauling that name around, she would never know. Men like him was exactly the reason she had fled the life her parent’s had wanted for her. The Earl and Countess of Oxfordshire’s social calendar involved hundreds upon hundreds of twatty, posh men like him. Men, of whom, Libby actively tried to avoid. The poshest guy she knew was Tom, (if she barred Ben’s full name from her mind)

“I have never before held such beauty…”

 

He added in a vomit-enducing side note, with a lecherous grin that made Libby want to violently empty her stomach contents at his feet.

 

She did nothing but smile angelically, struggling to get away as he clasped her hand tight. He had hideously _sweaty_ palms too, as if it wasn’t bad enough on its own stead…

 

She laughed uneasily before she answered.

 

“Ohh, now. Careful you don’t _hurt_ someone with that sharp charm..”

 

She flirted, rebuffing him kindly. Turning back to her mother as the group of people about them laughed, and twat-horse-posh-sir big-nose-the-thirds features looked alarmingly pleased with himself In a way that made Libby shiver.

 

“I really do need to have that word with you now, Mother.” She pressed.

 

“In a minute darling, I wouldn’t want to leave my guests unattended…” Libby’s mother smiled back.

 

“Oh, you’ll be back _quicker_ than you know… Trust me…”

 

Libby grinned, insisted further, edging her mother further out of the room by the arm.

 

The Countess rolled her eyes, exclaiming an elegant “Excuse me for a moment would you…” to all of her guests.

 

When they had their back to the friends, the smile instantly faded from her face.

 

“..Next time, Elizabeth, why don’t you just drag me from the room by _my hair._ You have so _little_ manners sometimes it astounds me..”

 

Her mother chided. Readjusting her shawl.

 

_“Mother….”_

 

Libby growled in warning of a _‘don’t-start-_ ‘ tone, closing her eyes and breathing her name through a sigh.

 

“And you look as grubby as if you’ve wandered in here fresh from slopping the pigs... Don’t you have a washing machine for your clothes in London?” She added, unable to have another silly dig at her daughter.

 

Libby got to the study, Sharply opening the door and jerking her head to ensure her mother stepped in first. Her mouth an unamused line of throbbing anger as she tried to remind herself that having your own mother _flogged_ could tend to be seen as a _little bit_ heartless….

 

 _And_ , her brain reminded her, _flogging was illegal in Great Britain.  But her anger was leading her thoughts into hazy grey areas of questionable legality..._

 

The door slammed softly after Libby shut it.

 

“I look like this, dear mother, because I didn’t expect a Black Tie evening to be hosted in the Turner household when I drove up here tonight…” Libby explained.

 

Rebecca tilted her regal head, arms folded in front of her.

 

“Would you care to enlighten me as to why, exactly, there is a gathering of mostly posh single and rich males swanning about in our home?”

 

Libby asked, fearing she already knew the answer. She had seen the numerous single men line every room as she searched for her mother here tonight...

 

“Can you ever not be so brusque with me?” Her mother asked.

 

“I can’t help it, I tend to get a _bit snappy_ when men like his royal twatship of posh shire eyes up my tits through my jumper like I’m a page three girl..” Libby added in a harsh growl.

 

Libby watched as her mother’s nose wrinkled into a shrewd wince and a frown littered her brows.

 

“I know, I saw him do that too. Manners of a _sewer rat_ , that man.”

 

“Which begs me to question why he’s _here_ , at a party…” Libby carried on.

 

“Surely you can not be _that_ thick, Dear?” Her mother asked dryly.

 

“Enlighten me, then, _Mother._ ” She insisted. Growling the last word snippily. 

 

“After all that has happened to you this year, Elizabeth. I figured you would need a young man by your side. Or have _you forgotten_ what you’d been put through in September, and before then…” She asked.

 

Libby dropped her head, shutting her eyes sighing into her hands.

 

“ _Oh, Mum…”_

 

Libby hushed in disbelieving anger and frustration.

 

“You couldn’t get out of bed for a month! You cut us out, we didn’t hear from you. And then to learn all the things that had gone on between you and Ben…” She paused and shook her head.

 

“How did you find out?” Libby asked.

 

Libby watched as her mother took a deep breath.

 

“I phoned Thomas.”

 

 _Oh Thomas._ Libby Growled, _when I next get my hands on you, you cricket legged too nice mannered oik. I’m going to strangle you to death and beyond…._

 

“How did--?” She asked.

 

“I called and asked him. To which he very reluctantly confirmed. And being so kind as to illuminate me as to all the happenings in your life…” She continued.

 

“… And now, let me guess, you’re going to tear my head off about the fact that I _‘muscled_ in’ on your private life again..”

 

“I’ve never hidden any details of my life from you, mum.” Libby insisted, cutting in harshly.because she hadn't. She was an open book to her parents. 

 

“No. You just cut off all attempts we made to try and _help_ you.”

 

She bristled, both women nearly shouting now.

 

“I didn’t want your help. Or your money. I wanted to make my own way. Stand on my own two feet. I don’t understand what is _SO WRONG_ about that…” Libby shouted.

 

“Oh please. You got out of your titled life as fast as you could. Everyone knows it. _I_ know it. Your _father_ knows it.” She edified.

 

“Dad doesn’t mind that _I- No_. you know _what?_ , I didn’t come here to have this row with you, _yet again,_ Mum, Believe it or not, I came _home_ to have a lovely family Christmas with my parents, aunts, uncles and cousins…” Libby explained, anger simmering down now.

 

Becks folded her arms across her chest, sighing in irritancy at the fact that she and Libby would probably never get over that row. She looked across to see her daughter was mirroring her pose. A staple position among Turner women when they reached something they would never agree on out of anger.

 

“We should get back.” Becks said stiffly.

 

“The house looks lovely, by the way..” Libby commented dryly.

 

“Not too OTT?” Becks asked smiling.

 

“Just OTT enough.” Libby smiled.

 

“White Company had a sale on…”

 

She explained, fiddling shyly with the corner of her shawl.

 

“I thought as much..” Libby explained.

 

“Dad went nuts because of the amount you spent again?” She enquired.

 

“Same as last year.”

 

Her mother nodded, confirming. It _was_ their Turner Xmas Tradition.

 

“Have your cousins fallen out over the board game yet?” She asked.

 

And then, almost as if their clubbing together and thinking, and talking about it had summoned some otherworldly force to concoct the happenings of which she spoke. From the next room, they all heard numerous loud shouts and a clattering of something hitting the floor and smashing. They could definitely heard Charlie and Hugh arguing, and Alf's trying to break them up. No doubt Lottie and Rosie would be busy drinking and ignoring the boisterous boys.

 

“Have now.” Libby commented.

 

Becks sighed as she trudged out of the room, an unheard ‘wouldn’t be Xmas without it’ she sighed as she walked past Libby.

 

“I am glad your home dear. I fear I didn’t make that _evident_ enough a moment ago.” Becks added, lovingly touching her daughter’s shoulder…

 

Libby chuckled, moving to shut the door as they slid out of it.

 

“Well Then, you wouldn’t _be you_ …” She winked. Forgiving her.

 

 

 

~

 

 

~ The Following Day ~

 

After the events of the last nights party, - board games had been swept up and mended, and locked away in the cupboard until they argued over them and broke them again next year – and Christmas Eve was fast approaching on all the inhabitants of the Turner house now. Everyone was right on track as Libby had predicted. She had flopped into bed that night, texting JJ and informing him of how lousy her Christmas was shaping up to be as she had been stuck in a room full of single posh men all night. as she predicted, having to rebuff all their advances. Which. Was fine to start with. But by the tenth man, she had started to get rather exhausted.

But, thankfully, the following morning then came, and everyone got right on track to their usual habits, just as she thought:

 

Her Auntie Allie and her Mother, Becks were smashed on Prosecco trying to cook Dinner. Which would be appetizing, she hopes. It all depends on how much the two women imbibed beforehand as to whether or not they had edible food to enjoy tonight…

 

Her Uncle, Larry, was focused on his ipad watching some old golf game in the Orangery. He was a golf pro after all…

 

Her three male cousins (Hugh, Charlie and Alf) were arguing loudly upstairs over snooker in the games room. Most likely over who was winning...

 

Her Grandparents, on her mother’s side, Patsy and Francis were watching Pointless on a telly somewhere in the house. They _never_ missed it if they could help it.

 

Lottie and Rosie were painting their toenails and gossiping in the main lounge whilst watching a silly chick flick on TV.

 

Uncle Terry and Aunt Sam were having facials alongside the girls in the lounge, gabbing about Celeb gossip too. Hounding Libby for whatever she knew about the guys. Aunt Sam was still _so very_ obsessed with _Thomas…_

 

 

Her father was holed up in his study going over the last bit of work before he fully took Christmas off.

 

And, last but not least, Libby herself was In the place she could usually be found. In a little room overlooking the drive at the front of the house.

 

Huddled onto the cushioned bay window, cuddled up in a blanket against the cold glass, and watching as it got colder and darker outside. And there was her favourite Christmas book in her hands. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, like Clarence the angel in ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ she loved both the book, and the film. And adored how she always came back to it at Xmas time. She was dressed in snug clothes, as Lottie and Rosie had earlier leapt into their pyjamas to do manicures and pedicures, she had changed into hers.

 

It consisted of a long dark smoky grey cardigan with lace trimming the sleeves and neck. Along with a white clinging vest top that barely contained her untameable breasts. And on her bottom half, she wore a pair of light grey stretchy PJ pants with huge thick woolly socks. The blanket wrapped about her was a thick beige one, a thick wool knitted pattern. But it was worn and comfy and was doing a great job of keeping her warm.

 

She looked out onto the drive to see that it was definitely morphing into the dark blue evening now. And she wouldn’t be surprised if, at any minute now. Stark white snowflakes would begin to fall from the dark clouded sky. She sighed. Eyes drifting from the words on the pages. Missing her Lover back in London. And missing how he would always be here to make her laugh in glum moment’s such as this one….

 

“I had a feeling I’d find you in here..”

 

Came a soft voice from behind her.

 

She turned, not quite knowing when her father had entered the room. But knowing she didn’t mind it either.

 

Her father, The Earl, she always thought, even when she was a kid. Was the tallest man in the world. Which made her want to curse and demand to her thieving DNA why she wasn’t taller after his side of the gene pool. He was six foot five, at least. And much like her mother, had such handsome looks that never seemed to fade in brilliance.

 

 

He always looked studious to her. Always contemplative and wise. His eyes were like two twin silver coins that time had let go dull. Except they were hooded by crows feet and sagging under eyes that were starting to belie his weathered years. But his smile and twinkling eyes were still as vividly full of life as ever. Plus the fact his hair was nothing but a faded chestnut sweep, streaked with grey stripes throughout. So he looked wise. Certainly not young. But definitely not senile. Not yet, anyway… He still looked limber and fit, and he liked taking long walks with their dog, Sherlock, the cheeky west highland terrier, and he had a perfectly healthy physique for a man of his age.

 

Libby looked over to watch as he gave her a weathered old smile, tugging off his glasses. He was dressed today in a light blue shirt, which gaped at the chest, showing his smatterings of silvery grey chest hair, he teemed it with tatty old jeans looped to his trim hips by a plain belt, and funny pink coloured socks on his feet. A gift from Terry or Aunt Sam, no doubt

 

“Hi Dad.”

 

She beamed as he crossed into the room, smiling on seeing the book in her hands. Coming to ease himself into the chair next to her.

 

“Not with Rosie and Lottie? I heard Terry and Sam fill them in on some most inetresting gossip about some celeb not shaking off an appalling amount of babyweight..”

 

He hinted, brows raised, trying to seek her interest.

 

Libby smiled.

 

“I didn’t fancy it just yet. Perhaps later.” She smiled.

 

“You ok, there, Kid?.”

 

He enquired. Reaching out to rub at her shoulder.

 

“Can’t wait to put as much distance as I can, between myself and this year.” She muttered.

 

“Been a lousy one, huh?” He asked in empathy.

 

“You’ve no idea.” She grumped.

 

“Your mother filled me in on such.” He told.

 

“So. I hear one certain Mr Cumberbatch slighted my Libby...Ey?...”

 

He started to growl, protectively, like he was a wolf, and she, his little baby cub, was being picked on.

 

“It’s my own fault. Its silly. I butted in where I should not have, It’ll teach me to meddle in other peoples lives…” she informed him.

 

“As I understand it, you were trying to protect a friend from getting hurt.” He added.

 

“Mum told you?”

 

“Via that boy, T-Hiddy, yes…” He confirmed.

 

Libby snorted with laughter at that.

 

“My darling, it doesn’t sound to me like you were in the wrong at all. But it sounds to me, like your friend was fighting a battle, he perhaps, didn’t let on about."

 

Edmund mumbled.

 

“Well. She isn’t exactly charming…” She muttered lowly.

 

“Thorn among roses compared to yours and his friendship.” He concluded

 

Libby couldn’t help it. She broke at hearing those words.

 

_“Dad.”_

 

She whispered, tears wetting her eyes.

 

“I fear it’s _so_ much _more_ than that…”

 

She confirmed. Her heart was involved in this. That is why it had been killing her.

 

It’s because _she loved_ Ben.

 

That’s what all of the heartache and pain had been about. She said as much to Tom the night after her and ben exchanged words after the engagement party. It hurt her to know Rachel was going to agonise Ben, and, like a time bomb, she could do naught but sit and wait for the horrific mess, the truth, to explode and wound him in the process.

 

“Oh, My darling…”

 

 

He hushed, tucking her close, after wiping away her tears.

 

He sighed into her hug. Holding her until the tears stopped. 

 

“Anyway, As I understand such. You’ve got another reason to smile, at the moment. I got a call this morning.” He smiled, beaming down at her.

 

“A call?” She asked.

 

“A call from a certain gentleman asking me permission for something..”

 

“You’re not about to announce you’ve given permission to marry me off a rich middle eastern businessman, are you dad?” She asked

 

He peeled into laughter. She had his wit, alright.

 

“No little chippy's stored away in London you want to tell me about?”

 

“ _Are_ you having a _stroke?_ ”

 

 

Libby asked, raising one wry brow.

 

Edmund rolled his eyes. She wasn’t catching onto his drift.

 

“Keep a weather eye on the horizon, young miss.” He informed her.

 

Yet still, he was making next to  _no_ sense…

 

 _Perhaps he was starting senility early,_ Libby thought.

 

At this point, Rosie, Lottie, Terry and Sam barrelled through the study door to them all. Trying to crowd about the window.

 

“Uncle Ed. There's a car in the drive. Are we expecting anyone else?” Lottie asked.

 

“WHa-?”

 

Libby turned to ask her father as he grinned, all six of them trying to crowd about the window. As it was, she couldn't see a _bloody_ thing. 

 

“Oh, he’s _tall_. A six footer...” Terry giggled.

 

"Please tell me you were talking about his _height_ , Terr...And not his trouser bulge..." Sam grinned. Evilly  

 

"... Though that looks _monstrous_ too..." Sam added naughtily. 

 

"Behave..." Ed winced.  

 

"If that Man, with that face and body was in bed with me, Sam. I wouldn't care _what_ _size_ his package is..." Rosie added. 

 

"Why, You Brazen Hussy, _You_." Terry remarked To her. 

 

"Like you're any better..." Rosie scoffed. 

 

Terry frowned at her. 

 

“You could cut your hands on those cheekbones. I know I’d like too…” Sam flirted.

 

“Those eyes…” Lottie moaned

 

“Good hair too…” Rosie scoffed.

 

“Well. You’d need something the grab onto if _that head_  was _between your_ thighs-…” Terry started..

 

_“Terry!”_

 

Libby chided, yet she smiled.

 

“Look, Will all of you sodding MOVE! I can’t see wh-“

 

Libby began. But her words died a painless death in her throat

 

True to the mad - and overtly sexual - ramblings of her family. She finally got a glimpse outside to see a small car had pulled up next to the large stone fountain, smack bang in the middle of her drive. And as snow started to ebb down in gentle sweeping flakes on the wind. Libby saw who the lean figure was, clambering out of the car in a thick collared coat, a rusty coloured lab trailing ahead of him on a lead as he cradled an overnight bag in his long fingered hand;

 

JJ. 

 

His hair was wavy and speckled with flakes of snow. His skin pale and chilled to the touch, she imagined, the cool air had already made itself present in the touch of pink windburn to his cheeks. His eyes however, were busy taking in the sight of the huge house in front of him. searching, looking.

 

And then he found her sat in the window…

 

And grinned.

 

“ _Oh_.”

 

Terry and Sam both swooned correspondingly

 

“I think I just had _an orgasm_..” Sam gushed.

 

“ _Oh_ , I _know_ I did. Is he sleeping here?” Terry asked his brother, Ed.

 

"Hello Mr. BSD. He can sleep in my bed..." Sam offered. 

 

"Sharing is caring, My darling.." Terry felt pushed to add. 

 

"I bet he has a nice ass two. High and tight. Like two scoops of ice cream...." Sam salivated. 

 

"Good Grief.." Edmund sighed. 

 

 

“Now, Now. Down girls…”

 

Libby grinned as she ran out of the room to the front door. They watched as the Red head disappeared off out of the room to go to the _god of a man_ on the drive.

 

"I would gladly let that man in my bed..." Terry dreamed aloud. 

 

"You'd have to turn him first, dear. Unless he's partial to a beer gut"

Sam muttered under his breath. 

 

“Terry, Don’t you even _dare_ think of it…”

 

Ed warned. They had been burned before by Terry’s wandering eyes when it came to _handsome_ young men.

 

“If he can’t. Then can I?”

 

Sam asked cheekily.

 

Ed gave them one of his _best looks._ They were _such a formidable pair_

“I thought you two were loyally married and all that…” Ed asked Terry and Sam.

 

They both gave a respetive shove of an uninterested shrug.

 

“Excuse me. But, when she has very  _fine_ morsels of men of _that, calibre,_ trailing after her. I forget my own name.... Let alone _her_ …” Terry pointed to Sam.

 

“You _Bitch_..” Sam spat back.

 

“Steady on now.”

 

Ed laughed. He couldn’t _not. At those two._

 

He feared he'd be the one who had to break up a slapping catfight in a moment or two.

 

“Girl knows how to pick them doesn’t she?” Rosie asked.

 

“She has, _Impeccable_ taste..”

 

Lottie bit her lip, looking JJ up and down from a distance. He was a long legged, perfect haired and smile man. Like all of Libby’s men were. She was so lucky in that respect…. It was enviable…

 

“Move over, ladies, I need more _oggle_ room..”

 

Sam whined, pushing between them all. Glaring back at Terry.

 

“I changed my mind.” Terry grumped

 

“ _Queen Bitch_..”

 

He added, crossing his arms as Ed laughed.

 

“Bite me, _Darling_.” Sam fought back.

 

“ _Gladly,_ Dear.” Terry warned.

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

Libby heaved the door open, damning the cold. Sprinting down the steps and across the gravel to get to her man.

 

“Don’t tell me. No room at the Inn?”

 

JJ smiled cheekily, as If he hadn’t just driven for three hours solid to get her, to spend Xmas with her. His breath able to be seen in the cold snowy air.

 

Libby was freezing, arms crossed over herself, shivering in her flimsy Pyjama’s.

 

But she was smiling like a loon, and she _didn’t care…_

 

“Well. I reckon we’ll find room for you _somewhere_ …” Libby sarrced cheekily..

 

“You don’t mind my intruding..”

 

“Not _one fucking_ bit..”

 

She grinned, crossing to him as he dropped his back and pulled her into his arms. His woollen coated arms came about her and squeezed her tight. Tucking her into his coat with him, folding it across her bottom to keep the heat in.

 

She was stretched up on her tiptoes to lean into him as he smooched her with wild unhindered passion.

 

When they pulled away, his hands reached to disentangle a thread of curled red hair that clung to her lips.

 

“How was the coffee date?”

 

She asked, sliding her hands into his silky waves of hair.

 

“I didn’t go.”

 

He told her. Stroking the back of her head. Looking at her with such love that made it seem like he hadnt seen her in a thousand years.

 

She tilted her head.

 

“Why?” She wondered.

 

“Because I would rather spend my time with someone who _can_ want me permanantly in their life. That someone is you, my Lucky.”

 

He smiled, looking down at her with such passionate intensity, it made her knees wobble.

 

“Is that why you came?” She asked.

 

“No.”

 

He smiled. Wider.

 

“I came because I couldn’t bare the thought of you having a lousy Xmas. After what you filled me in on yesterday. I figured I needed to make sure you have a great one instead. Plus, I’ve never actually met your parent’s…”

 

He grinned, looking back to the house, to the window he first saw her in, to see that... two middle aged men were, staring, grinning...and…. Waving like _mad_ at him.

 

He laughed, frowning.

 

Libby turned to see Sam and Terry cooing in a very _gay_ way across to JJ, who gave them back his most handsome smile. Libby saw that Sam _nearly fainted_ because of it…

 

“Family member’s of yours, I assume?”He laughed.

 

Libby sighed in frustration.

 

“No, Never seen them before in my life…” She dismissed.

 

JJ laughed at her dark wit.

 

“Come inside. Let’s get you warmed up, Lover..”

 

JJ beamed down at her, leaning in to kiss her again, she could tell by the lusty gleam in his eyes, that that’s what he was going to do...

 

“Baby, it’s cold outside..” He grinned cheesily.

 

“Oh, Like that’s one _I haven’t_ had before…” She moaned.

 

“Then _have_ this, _Turner_..”

 

He gruffed hotly, gripping her tight and kissing her like there was no tomorrow, no day before, and no future. Her toes curled in her socks, and she is sure her brain was somewhere east of France...

Unbeknownst to the two lovers,  inside the house. Sam and Terry exclaimed a "Oh now. That's not fair. Why does she get a kiss and we don't?"

 

When they pulled away, he whispered sweet words to her ear that made her grin into his neck as he hugged her.

 

 

“Merry Christmas, Lucky. I Love You.”

 

 

 

 

~

 


	11. Naughty or Nice List?...

 

 

 

After JJ – the poor sod – had the unfortunate experience of meeting every single member of Libby’s family. Terry and Sam were most taken…And asked the most inappropriate questions, to the guy’s credit though, he smiled that unfairly handsome grin and answered every single one. He had even been so wickedly good as to wink at Sam at one point, who thereafter clasped a hand dramatically to his heart, saying he urgently needed an ambulance, for he was about to keel over.

 

If there was one thing that truly got Libby firing on all cylinders – _as it were_ – and not able to wait until she could get him alone, in her bed later, then it was seeing her handsome lover meet and converse with every one of her insanely inappt and dribbling _mad_ family.

 

He played a quick game of snooker with her three male cousins, who all shortly therafter, declared him an offical _LAD_ , which was tantamount to a sainthood in their eyes, so they loved him instantly, he had even let them win.

 

...He only had to smile at Terry and Sam and they were won over....

 

He enlightened Rosie and Lottie on the degrees of celeb gossip he was gifted with (something very juicy about a secret divorce and a lovechild as Libby understood it..) So that was them won over too.

 

And as for Patsy and Francis who finally joined the whole family in the main living room after pointless had ended, JJ talked so avidly with them about idle inconsequential things, which was, he learned, a passion for garden gnomes, TV quiz shows, and stories from their childhood during the war. He sat, listened, and interjected soft thoughtful questions where they were due during the long regaled tale that could put anyone to sleep.

 

And then, after talking some to Uncle Larry about his golf swing, and Larry declaring he’d love to teach him about it sometime. The bloody nice man only had to extend his politeness, and offer to help Libby make the next round of tea, and as they both turned to the leave the room for the Kitchen to do so, Both Patsy and Auntie Allie and her mother accosted her and exclaimed in a whisper that he was _‘perfection itself’_

 

After indulging in a little Turner family tradition, as it turns out. Allie and Becks had been far too sloshed to cook, so Dinner, turned out to be cheese and beans on toast accompanied by many cups of tea, and several large glasses – _more like bottles_ – of red wine. As it was, a direct quote from the two drunkard sisters, regarding the food was that it was ‘ _the only thing they could not burn.’_

After such an exquisite banquet, everyone had crowded into the front lounge that was always too small, yet no one ever thought to change it. It _was_ tradition after all, and by now, the entire family and their one guest was _too drunk_ to care. Everyone squeezed in on whatever space they could find, which left Charlie and Larry sprawled on the floor at awkward angle with cushions, and Patsy, a frail woman of 82, insisting she wanted to try out the bean-bag for fun. And ended up looking like an overturned turtle struggling on it’s shell, rocking back and forth, when she tried to get up out of it to nip to the loo.

 

And it left JJ and his Lucky squeezed onto a ‘loveseat’ sofa, as Terry had insisted that was where ‘Lovers’ should sit. Having to restrain his husband back from trying to cop a seat on JJ’s lap, where Libby now found herself. Jay’s lengthy legs were stretched out in front of him like a resting cricket, as he let Libby shuffle her bum down the side of his hip, squeezing them awfully close together, her legs across his lap, not that they minded one bit. Sat smiling like fools, watching the credits for the Turner Xmas family movie to roll across the screen. Frank Capra’s ‘It’s a wonderful life.’ The both of them had been swept up in the raucus drinking that her family only indulged in ‘as it was Xmas after all’ now both a bit tipsy and giggly. And it didn’t help that every now and then, when he was sure no one was looking, JJ would lean into her, let his breath tingle the skin on her neck for a moment, before placing a nipping little kiss to her neck, making her smile.

 

“Just you wait til I get you in bed, Fields..”

 

She whispered back to him after he did it for the 10th time. She had been keeping count.

 

“I await it most _eagerly_..” He grinned.

 

“Christmas come early this year, for you.”

 

She winked, promising him it would be a shag to remember. She listened as he chuckled softly into her neck. She didn’t care that they were in a room with her entire family, if he purred into her neck or kissed _it one_ more time. She’d throw down and consummate with him right here on this sofa. Company _be damned._

 

“Be careful with that sexy smile Lucky. You’ll end up the naughty list…” He warned sexily.

 

 _Oh,_ if she wasn’t wet for him before, she _was_ now…

 

“How would one go about eradicating their name from the naughty list?...” She asked cheekily. Whispering into his ear.

 

He grinned, and it was all fox.

 

“Extreme Sexual Submission would do it.” He purred.

 

Libby bit her lip, giving him the ‘come hither’ eyes

 

 

 

~

 

JJ didn’t think he had ever been so pleased as to see movie credits fade to ‘The End’ in all his life. Even if it was a old goodie of a film. The moment Libby had prostrated herself across his lap, her magnificent ass tucked into the side of his thighs. He had rather wanted to get her alone to ease his ardent burden, as it were.

 

And now, finally, they were. They had scampered up to bed after everyone else like two naughty teens about to go and do dirty filthy things, fearing they’d get caught. Sprinting through the house, tittering drunkenly and stumbling into one another, both very aware that they were both alarmingly horny, laughing and talking drunken jibberish to one another.

 

Libby loved how as they winded the way through the creaky rickety twisted staircase, and the low corridoor to her room, that he had to run and stoop, as he was too bloody tall to pass through the old part of the house unhindered. Libby smiled at the sight of him craning his head at an awkward angle before they got to her old room.

 

Before the latch even clicked shut on the door, they were all over each other like a bad rash. They both shed each others clothes quickly but safely. It started with him throwing off her cardigan, and her easing him out of his jumper, loving how after it slid up, she could press her hand to his muscled abs tense and clench beneath his hot skin like steel under velvet. He groans at the simple touch which sent him quite mad with need for her, and urgently needing her naked. As he is just in his jeans and socks now, and she is still insultingly half dressed, he pulls her close by the strap of her vest top, before he tugs it up and off her, making her arch her pretty figure into a curve as he tugged it up over her head. His hand cradles to the dip of her lower back that he adores, tugging her naked upper body into his, fingers sliding down to cup her ass under the grey PJ bottoms and knickers she had on, urging them off her long legs to gather at her feet instead, where he preffered them.

 

Its hot, but slow. Painstakingly so, as if the both of them are taking all the time in the world, as If every inch of one another is worthy of close study from their eyes.

 

He groans, sexily, again, and she gasps as he pulls their hot bodies close together, him biting his lip at how her taut nipples felt pressing up to his warm chest. She felt divine. Her hands go almost straight to his waistband, hands fumbling for a second with the button, tugging the fly, clamping her thighs and biting down her lip when she found how hard he was beneath the confines of his jeans. She worked furiously hard to get them off, taking the long length of him to hand thereafter, watching as his torso tugged and pulled as he panted out a breath feeling her hand tentatively touch his cock as if she were some genteel lover, rather than the fiery minx she was. The genteel way she touched him made him shudder with _utter_ pleasure…

 

He took the back of her head into his wide hand, cradling her close so he could press a needy kiss to her lips. Stumbling their osmosis of limbs backwards through the dark room until they crashed into what he guessed was her bed, and twisted to fit on it, Him first, tugging her with him by the hips. Looking up to her as they worked quickly off the remainder of their clothes, her kneeling on the bed between his wide legs. He tried to fight her not too, but is helpless once she leans down and slides her lips around his cock, sucking and slurping wetly on the blunt head of him, causing him to fist his hand into her hair. He couldn’t fight the loud moans that burst out from his mouth at that.

 

“Fuck, darling. _No time_ for that. I’m _close_ …”

 

He warned, she could tell, his thighs were tensing under her hands as she leaned down. She pulled away, letting his slide out of her mouth as she had deep throated him one last time. Smiling to see him tense as she pulled away, grinning leaving him watching as her lips came off him and she left him with a little lick to his tip that left his hips bucking. He growled and yanked her close by the arm, making her squirm as he then drove her mad, holding her where she was by the upper arm as his free hand slid between her legs to find she was beautifully wet for him. She gasped and knew he was giving her, her well owed comeuppance as his long fingers found her clit and twirled about with just enough pressure to make her thighs clench.

 

“Oh, nice girls don’t get all _dripping wet_ like this, _just_ from giving their boyfriends head…”

 

He purred, watching her face contort into pure pleasure as he circled her clit some more, dipping his long fingers inside of her, just so..

 

“That must mean you’re a _very bad_ girl…”

 

He toyed into her ear, as he fucked her with his fingers, making her see stars behind her closed lids.

 

“Oh, Jay.”

 

She gasps, her hand struggling to latch into his hair as he moved her closer, cupping his hands about her ass and drawing her into him, onto his lap, cruelly making sure her most delicate – and sopping wet - parts brushed along his muscled thigh. He grins at his malicious plan, seeing it caused her to dig her fingers into his shoulders, marking deep cresents with her nails at how good it was.

 

“Oh, nice men don’t do that…”

 

She moaned, panting with cheeks reddened from pleasure and teasing foreplay, watching as he lined their bodies up, looking down to place her dripping lips over his throbbing hard cock, she loved how one wave of droopy hair dangled down over his forehead as he did this. Making him look so gentle and untouchable in the midst of being about to plough her so lovingly and seneslessly.

 

She couldn’t help it, her hand itched to touch this divine creature that had her heart in his grasp, and her body cradled lovingly in his hands.. _literally.._

 

She took advantage of the moment to slide her hand down the side of his beautiful face, cupping it in one hand. He looked up to her, catching and locking down her sweet blue eyes in a gaze with his own.

 

“I never said I was a nice man…” He admitted, panting.

 

He moved them both then, his hand at the small of her back, guiding her forwards, meaning that he slid all throbbing wet and wide nine inches of himself deep inside her wet centre, making her mouth gape in a soundless gasp of pleasure that eminated forth from her lips a little too loudly.

 

“What I am, though, Is a very good fuck…”

 

He commented, gripping her hips, shifting them back and forth so she was slipping back and forwards down onto his cock.

 

“And I get off from watching _very bad_ dirty girls ride me til they cum screaming around my cock…”

 

He growled, his hands wandering up and down every slender line of her body, over her curves that could stop a clock stone dead.

 

She couldn’t help but agree, _wholeheartedly_ , as he was skilfully managing to brush her clit against his hot skin every time, sparking off such a sheer amount of pleasure it left her light headed and her body thrashing. And she hadn’t even cum yet….

 

“You’re not wrong about the _good fuck_ part…”

 

She managed to get out before he slammed her faster down onto him, leaning them both back so he was sat up against her headboard, hand still viced on her hips, leaning his head against the wall which her bed was pushed against, moving her back and forth at a brutally great pace that was a good speed for him, and allowed her time to feel his cock brushed deep inside her, and the move left enough time to stimulate her clit against him. a sinful combination. Plus he could watch from a very close vantage point as he fucked the living hell out of his sexy red head.

 

“I’m not wrong about the screaming orgasm part on your behalf either…”

 

He beamed, ensuring she would have a earth moving orgasm even if it killed him. he loved watching her as he made her cum. Eye contact with her made it all the more incredible...

 

“Fuck, Darling, You’re so wet and tight.”

 

He moaned lowly, bucking his hips up to clash into hers, the wide long length of him pushing up against a sweet spot inside of her that made her grip the headboard either side of his head and shout through her pleasure, touching her forehead to his own as she pressed her breasts up against his dewy chest, one hand abandoning her hips and sliding up her back to her shoulder to tuck her close, where she was, looking _deep_ into her eyes as he fucked her _deep._

“Have I succeeded in excluding my name from that list?..”

 

She asked, voice going pitchy, god she was close now, she could feel herself grow closer to that point of shattering into ecstasy. Especially the way his hips

 

“God No. And I wouldn’t wish you too, I love that you’re _my dirty_ girl.”

 

He grinned, sinking his teeth down onto her neck, breaking their eye contact, to feel one of her hands slide up into his hair, gripping tight as she bit her lip because of what he did. She _adored_ having her neck bitten... she screamed at that.

 

“Oh, god, Lucky, I’m cumming… I _need_ you to cum with me…”

 

He bit off, snapping his hips sharly into her now, fucking her so relentlessly she couldn’t help but oblige him in his wish.

 

“Oh, Yes. Oh, christ jay. I think you’ll get your wish.”

 

She warned, feeling her thighs start to shake as the secual onslaught reached its peak. He guided her faster over him now, her clit tingling as she tried to hold off for him. They were both seconds away from falling over that edge of pure bliss.

 

“Cum , Libby, cum _NOW_.”

 

He demanded as he did, spurting deep inside her with a toe curling orgasm, not caring that he should be quiet or respectul to the fact that her family could possibly hear them, but as their respective orgasm’s rushed powerfully through both their bodies in waves, they didn’t care.

 

He gripped her hair in his fist, helping her to ride harder, and grind out every last speck of pleasure she had in her as she came, her back arched, pushing her into him, her hands clawing into the headboard, leaving scratches just like the angry red ones she had left etched down his back.

 

She shouted her pleasure into the column of his neck, her body bucking as she finished cumming over them both. Their laps now wet with her and his orgasms. His dripping slightly down her thigh, in a way that wasn't dirty, it so very _hot_.

 

She gasped, panting as she slumped against him. His head fell back against the wall, resting there as he stared at her ceiling. Fighting a chuckle as he saw a clash poster taped there. Joe Strummer destroying the guitar on stage, in that famous picture that made The Clash's 1979, London’s Calling album cover. Looming down over them in their post coital bliss.

 

Libby kissed his shoulder, getting the scent of his sweet tangy sweat on her lips. But she didn’t care. She loved how they were both now flushed and sweaty, very tired, and drunk. And _pleasured_ … she thought with a wry smirk…

 

“So…” He panted.

 

“You _dirty_ girl, you. A punk fan are we?”

 

He asked, looking around her old room that had doubtlessly seen her through her teenage years as a misguided and wayward punk.

 

He loved that about her. That explains why she worshipped anything to do with the Clash or the Sex Pistols.. Plus he could see photos of her with her short punky hair-do adorn the walls. Her now long auburn hair had once been a short, spikily gelled pixie cut that was redder than blood. And her teen body was all long legs and slender gangly limbs. He much preffered the shape of her now. Those curves that he now dragged a hand down to find they were dripping sweat because of their energetic bed regimen of giving each other yet another stunning orgasm.

 

“It was my teen belief, that Punk’s not dead, it’s just sleepin’ drunk.” She beamed in explanation.

 

Libby shifted so his thick length slid out of her. He was still rock _hard_ against her thigh. She climbed off him and sunk, naked and dewy on wibbled limbs, into his side as he folded an arm over her, her chuckling as she looked at her old room. She had so many punk posters plastered over it, you couldn’t even see the _colour_ of the walls anymore. Just one endless blast of punk bands from the 70’s. The Dead kennedys, Black Flag, Patti Smith, The Goo-Goo Dolls, X-ray Spex, The Slits, Sex Pistols, The Clash, _again_ , and Siouxsie and the Banshees all staring aimlessly back at their naked bodies as the curled up under the covers in the blissfull afterglow.

 

“Do you think we were loud?”

 

Libby asked self consciously to him , twisting her head to catch is eyes.

 

He grinned. That was enough to confirm her asking…

 

“You were.” He insisted.

 

“ _Oh good_. Be prepared to hear about _THAT_ over breakfast tomorrow, before we do presents..”

 

She huffed. But right now, she couldn’t give less of a fuck. She had just had a multiple orgasm romp with a wickedly sexy man. She’d broadcast that information across Britain were she able…

 

“I have a feeling that Sam and Terry will be _very_ jealous..” He grinned.

 

He explained, rolling onto his side to spoon her, his still firm cock nudging softly into her ass.

 

“One sec…I’m a bit cold. Damn attic room”

 

Libby granted, sighing, clambering out of bed and his warm embrace, crossing naked past the window, illuminated in her pale short curvy glory for a second by a shaft of moonlight, the sight of her making JJ’s cock twitch in arousal. He frowned down at it, hadn’t it had enough of her tonight. She’d only just cum a minute ago for christs sake. But no, his cock _would not_ be swayed. _No pun intended_ …

 

She went to a tall dresser and pulled out a drawer, rummaging about to find something inside it, and when she did, she pulled it out. He watched as the black thing unfolded, it was very large. And he watched as she slid it on, so it sat rather large on her, brushing the tops of her thighs as she squeezed it over her boobs. Letting it slide down to rest on her body. And he could see that it was a ‘Punk’s Not Dead, Anarchist Til I die, Never mind the Bollock’s’ T-shirt, scrawled with Jamie Reid newspaper text, she crossed back to bed. Folding her hair out from the tight collar. The sleeves reached down nearly to her elbows.

 

JJ smiled.

 

He could have _such fun_ with this position...

 

“Stop.”

 

He commanded, she paused where she stood in the middle of her room. Frowning mildly at his order.

 

“Why?” She asked.

 

He lifted one wry brow. Looking at his body, urging her to do the same. She looked down the long length of his to see that his _long length_ was tenting the sheets once again.

 

“You _can’t_ be horny again..”

 

She asked, surely it should have been a physical impossibility…

 

“Come here Lucky…” He ordered raspily

 

“Jay.”

 

She protested, moving closer. He sat up, slinking across the bed, pulling her by the arm to encourage her closer. Slipping a hand under the hem of her t-shirt.

 

“Leave the shirt on. Because I’m gonna _fuck_ you in it.” He promised.

 

“Do I get a say in this?”

 

She grinned, giving her teasing consent, her thighs wobbling as his fingers slid to her cunt, finding the wetness that he managed to coax from her.

 

“None whatsoever, Now shut up and let yourself _get fucked_.”

 

He grinned, slinging her onto the bed under him, muffling her giggles with kisses untils he succumbed.

 

 _What’s a girl to do?_ She thought as his head slid down her body, tangling her hands into his hair.

 

Who would've known Terry turned out to be right? As it turns out his hair _was_ a very good thing to anchor her hands in when he pressed his face between her thighs…

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 


	12. Happy New Years, Ben...

 

 

~ December 30th, 10;04Pm, Inside a Desolate Flat in Knightsbridge ~

 

 

 

Ben was slumped on his sofa, nursing a glass of whiskey. His mood as sour as the drink in his glass. Going through a script for a TV show he wasn’t sure whether or not to go for. Tonight was new years eve. And for once, he didn’t have anywhere to be, no plans to keep with any of his numerous friends. Of course, a great number of them were hosting parties, plenty of which he had been invited too. But, he didn’t accept a single invitation. Not a one. He wasn’t enjoying his social life as much these days anyway.. and everyone seemed intent on reminding him of that. He took a sip and thought back over his night…

 

He had thought of spending some time with Rachel. He had a fairly free day whilst she was at work, he had gone out by himself for a coffee, sat and read his book in silence, and his own miserable company. And then he had gone and got some things to make Dinner for him and Rachel tonight. He thought it would be a nice end to the week, and it was new years too. They could toast it in together as two Fiancés clinking glasses to their upcoming marriage the following July.

 

He had returned home and tidied up a bit, eagerly awaiting for when Rachel swanned home through the door at ten to six. He waited, until seven had come and gone. And then 20 past, half past, 20 to, seven o’clock, then ten past, and so forth. And still she wasn’t home. But she finally saw fit to flounce through the door at half nine, just as he was serving up dinner. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had gotten hungry. He had lit all the candles on the table, put on some music, cracked open a bottle of wine. And he smiled as she walked through the door, slinging her bag messily in a heap to the floor.

 

“Hey, I thought we could have…”

 

His words died as she sauntered right by him. Not even looking up from the screen of her work phone as she texted. Ignoring the glass of her favourite white wine he held out for her.

 

“Rachel…” He spoke loudly.

 

Why had he expected her to act any different?...

 

She stopped, and after a second or two, tore her eyes away from the screen and looked up to him with a barely interested “Hmmm?”

 

He gestured to the wine in his hand, aswell as the food he was serving up, that and the candle lain table.

 

“I thought we could have dinner, maybe have a nice night in, we havent done that in ages-“

 

“I can’t tonight.” She dismissed, turning and walking to the bedroom.

 

Ben let the arm that was holding up the glass slump to his side. A mild frown on his features.

 

“Will you atleast have dinner with me?” He called through.

 

“No. I’m not bothered…” She insisted through from the bedroom.

 

“Where you going tonight?”

He asked, slumped dejectedly against the counter, necking a great sip of the wine. Suddenly not hungry for it anymore. He asked, though, he already knew her answer.

 

“Out with the guys from work. New Years Fashion Party..” She explained quickly.

 

“Will you be home later?” He asked.

 

“No.”

 

She called back. That was it. No maybe, flat out blunt answer.

 

“Back Tomorrow?” He asked.

 

“God, can you _ever not_ hound me with questions?” She snapped, getting agitated.

 

He sighed in surrender. What else could he say?

 

“Sorry.”

 

He spoke, though what he had to be sorry _for_ , he had no idea.

 

She stormed out of their room, sulkily stomping in her heels, so they clacked angrily with her stroppy strides, crossing to the sofa and slumping her bag down. She had changed from her work wear into a low cut scarlet dress which showed off the thin muscled body she spent hours toning up at the gym, and starving herself to get her petite size six waistline, she was naturally very petite anyway. Slender and slight. He watched as she put more lipstick on in her compact. Facing away from him, huffing in annoyance.

 

“I don’t want to fight again, Rachel, _all we do_ is fight.” He explained.

 

“Well, whose fault is that, because it isn’t mine..” She stubbornly held out in a nasty way.

 

He scoffed, she really _was_ intent on cornering him.

 

“Is this what our whole marriage is going to be like? You flitting off to god knows where every night, and me left alone at home, waiting to see if you elect to come back or not?”

 

He asked loudly. Ben could take a little dig, but she was treating him like a doormat. _That_ , he wouldn't stand for.

 

“Well, maybe if I had someone pleasant to come home too, then I’d be here more often…” She ground out sharply.

 

“I went out on my day off to get stuff so we could have dinner. Last time I checked, that was a _pretty pleasant_ thing for someone to do for their fiancé..” Ben held out. Standing the wine glass down with a heavy angered thud.

 

“No. face it Ben, you haven’t been the same since _that night_ in September, after our engagement party. Why won’t you tell me what happened with you and Libby?” She yelled.

 

“We fell out _, that’s it. End of_ Rachel.” Ben seethed loudly.

 

“Whatever..”

 

She sighed, shaking her head. Gathering her stuff into her arms.

 

“Soon she’ll be out of England anyway from what I hear. _Good riddance to her_.” She dismissed as she clacked to the door.

 

_Ben’s heart stopped…_

“ _What_?” He snapped in disbelief.

 

She turned back to face him, a scowling glare daggered right at him.

 

“Lola found out from a Friend of hers. She was offered another job. In New York. By Andrew Conningby of Debut Illustration Agency, The Head Boss of the Offices here in London, aswell as Germany and New York, He offered her a job working under him. And rumour is she has accepted. She’ll probably start next year. So whatever rift is going on between the two of you can die a quiet death. Her and that John James bloke are moving out to New York together. She’ll be out of your hair, and out of _our lives_ for good. _Finally. Maybe then_ we can go back to normal…” She explained tersely.

 

She moved across to his door, opening it.

 

“I _might_ be back tomorrow. I don’t know, and I don’t really care, not that you need me, but I’ll be at Lola’s. Don’t bother keeping in touch. Happy New Year _, Ben_..”

 

She snarled through the door before she disappeared, slamming it in her wake.

 

He leaned against the kitchen counter after a moment or two of silence in the shattering sound of his front door having been thrown shut by Rachel’s anger.

 

He doesn’t remember stalking across to his liquor cabinet and pourng himself a large whiskey and downing half of it. But apparently. That’s what he did do.

 

He flopped miserably onto his sofa. Looking all across his flat. The vogue cover still in place above his mantelpiece. Even though he had found where she had hidden his Gatsby one, it was yet another battle he had not won, as she yelled about why she wasn’t allowed her things at his. He didn’t have the energy to refuse her.

 

A sharp burst of light across the sky showed Ben that fireworks had started early. He watched them streak and pop across the sky in their skittish colours. He watched, throwing the script in his hands down onto the table, away from his reach, wondering if indeed, his life could get any worse?

 

 

~

 

 

 

 


	13. Lovers, Loving and Resolutions...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back, back again.... mwaha. Come now. You didn't think I'd forgotten this had you? short, sweet, and a little smutty.... 
> 
> \- Author
> 
> x

 

Across town, in a completely different atmosphere, two lovers were the perfect spectacle of happiness, in comparison to one certain woeful flat and man in Knightsbridge.

They had been invited over to a colourful and ever sophisticated new years gathering at Charley and Alex’s posher than posh place, across Hyde Park in Mayfair. Which was a high class elegant apartment which overlooked the famous park. Complete with a roof terrace and a stunning glimpse of the fireworks which were booming off early across the park, scattering colour and noise across the dark night sky.

Libby, and JJ were, of course at the bar (where else?) and they were as happy as there ever were two people who knew the emotion.

They both slammed down a shot glass, each, in unison. Both hissing at the sting of the strong alcohol that burned their throats, and both now rather mildly drunk, and appreciating the wonderful flat which they were ensconsed in. With Charley’s taste of superb music thumping through the place, and fairy lights sparkling off the bright red walls. The two were sat very happily at the large slate grey granite kitchen island which served as a bar, there were people crowded outside, sprawled on the sofas, and crowded onto the balcony, watching the dark new years eve bustle of the streets down below. The place was hot, packed with body heat and chatter, aswell as the funky sound of Macy Gray underlining the laid back vibe as everyone waited patiently for the countdown to the next year to begin.

“ _No more_. No more tequila…”

Libby winced hand on her chest, feeling like her throat was about to disolve. Coughing as that last one didn’t end up agreeing with her. She looked yummy tonight, JJ had decided, dressing up to tempt him in a rather revealing velvet blue strapless dress, carved away in a harsh V shape, to better give him a glimpse of her cleavage that he wanted to be a lot closer too. And it had a long slit up to her thigh, of which left him wondering if she had even bothered putting on underwear tonight. And to her feet, she wore bright red multicoloured expensive heels on her feet. And one large golden ring with a big fat stone sat glistening on her finger. She had left her hair down, and on the way over, in the cab, after they had shared a sneaky little pre drink of a glass of red wine each, at hers, he had nuzzled his nose into her neck and taken in deep the scent of his lovely woman. Full well knowing, each of them, that tonight would end in a lovely bout of good, hot, drunken sex when they stumbled home in the early hours of the cold morning.

Libby peeked over, and saw that JJ didn’t look like he was enjoying the booze much either, he rather felt like it was sizzling a hole in his stomach lining. He too winced and cringed as it thudded it’s burning way down his gullet.

“Ok, no more of that..”

He wheezed.

“What next?”

He asked, making Libby chuckle.

“You’re the baddest of all men..”

She hiccuped. Placing a demure hand over her mouth as she did.

JJ guffawed laughter at her antics. Grinning wide that knicker melting smile, increased in it’s severity tenfold by how much more attractive he became, when the both of them were plastered.

“Vodka it is…”

He leered, reaching for the bottle. Whisking it into his grip and pouring a little into each of their glasses. Libby fought not to slump her head down with a _‘thunk’_ onto the surface top. If she drank much more, she’d damn sure all the cells in her body would start swimming in intoxicated circles.

“Here’s a whacky idea. What would be so terrible about clutching onto the last few dreggs of sobriety for when we enter the new year?”

Libby asks, resting her chin on her elbow, otherwise she had a feeling that she would end up in a giggling drunken heap on the floor.

“...Then we can wake up tomorrow not being in a great deal of pain..”

She mumbled as she watched him pour, though, to his credit, she was still smiling. Though he liked that she had drunk so many bevervages that her dark berry red lipstick had faded, plus he had pulled her close and kissed her _a lot_ tonight too, that made it dissapear also. And he prefered kissing it off her, rather than her drinking it away. Why have her lip stain sit prettily on glass rims, when it could be stuck to his own mouth?

“We are young, crazily in love, and life is too short to not stumble home _completely_ pissed on new years..”

He grinned, raising a glass to her, which she pouted at in drunken defeat before she accepted it. Looking at the slosh of vodka with dread. Almost as if she could imagine how much bigger it would cause her headache to grow by tomorrow morning, slash, afternoon.

“…And, let’s not mention, it is an inexorable honour, for me, to be able to indulge in a nice, good, long and fumbled bout of gloriously hot drunk sex with my curvy girlfriend…”

He winked, pouring his own shot, and clinking her glass to his.

Libby swallowed, tipping the glass up to her lips as she spoke.

“Subterfuge, You rat. I knew there was an ulterior motive for getting me hammered..”

Libby mumbled, before she let the stinging slip of vodka burn down her throat. Hissing and sucking in air between clenched teeth as she let the glass fall down to the granite top again. JJ didn’t seem much affected, his glass was raised to his magnifiently sexy lips, and he chucked the shot back, his eyes not leaving her own, smile increasing as he dispensed with the empty glass. Looking as unaffected as if he had just taken a sip of water. _Lords, he looked sexy when he did that.._ Libby drunkenly commented to herself.

He seemed to notice how her eyes flared, and her cheeks pinkened at whatever naughty thought she had just stashed away to herself. He grinned at that.

“You’re far too _far_ away for my liking, Lucky..”

He purrs, slipping a hand under her barstool and tugging her right up close to him. She hung onto the chair for dear life, finding herself now not an inch away from him as he shagged her with the hot look in his eyes. Her back arches, as she smiled at his proximity now. Tonight, the _fine_ Mr. Fields wore a pair of perfectly dark black jeans with brown suede shoes, but his jeans the kind that made his ass just look _damn fine_ , and on his top half, he was wearing a delectably lovely deep blue button up shirt, rolled high to show off those toned arms and big smooth hands that had just tugged her closer. They had been on the makeshift dance floor earlier, shaking it to such hip hop hit’s as ‘crazy in love’ By Queen Bey and ‘telephone’ by Lady Gaga. And if the mental image of JJ doing the beyonce ‘Queen Bitch’ swag walk didn’t stay with her until she was cold in her grave, then she didn’t know what would earn the right to take it’s place. As ever, he had let that stubble she was so fond of grow in place of his usually clean shaven jaw. And his rusty coloured hair was swept back, curling across his head. Just long enough now, to be roguish, wavy, and limitlessly sexy. His eyes were bright and warm, with inebriation, and his smile was just a thing of gods. Where his shirt gaped open a little down his chest, she could see a sheen of sweat glisten on his clavicle, probably in odes to his mad flailing which others labelled as dancing.

“Much better…”

He coos, as he brushed hair from her cheek, back behind her ear. So close was she now, she could see the heat in his eyes, flickering away. She could smell – and almost taste - the sweet tang of drink on his breath, and she could smell his cosy aftershave that he had patted onto his cheeks, radiating off his hot skin. He was all male and musk, and brute force sexy, she felt very silly and giggly near him, when he was like this. She felt like he was so _impossibly_ handsome, that she couldn’t possibly deserve this siren of a man.

She chuckles, shuffling on the chair, recrossing her legs, ignoring that she was getting a little more than turned on, and aroused, at the prospect of fumbling tumbling sex when they made it back home. It was like it was _their_ naughty little secret.

“You. Good sir, are inescapably sloshed. Which, by extension, turns you into an absolute rascal.”

She admitted aloud, trying not to curl into the absolute rascal’s touch as his hand skimmed more hair back from the side of her acutely sensitive neck. His hands were hot and wonderful, and as they skimmed gently over her skin, she found that she _trembled._

“Only a rascal for you, My Lucky. And you love my rascally-ness. It usually leads to some rather exquisite shagging.” He pointed out.

“Rogue.”

Libby smiled at him, sliding her hand to hook over his shoulder, leering close. Not because of any amorous reason, just that she was wobbly and drunk, and she had the privilege and pleasure of steadying her swaying body by clutching onto his muscled and sturdy shoulder.

“Or actually. That’s not all entirely truthful. It can sometimes lead to me dipping my head between your _lovely thighs The eat you out.._.” He hushed.

And, _oh, his voice._

Imagine being dipped, naked, in gold hued chocolate, and then having a thousand grecian muscle bound, sex gods, fight for the honour to personally lick it all off of you. That’s the effect his voice had on her, and the mental image her brain conjoured because of the dark rasp of his voice as he spoke a hair’s breadth away from her ear.

It was all she could to to remain _upright_. And _coherent_.

“Can you _ever_ endeavour to behave yourself?”

She asks. Beaming wide, her cheeks pinkened and her eyes were sultry.

“Never.”

He flirted back in a promise, smiling a nibbling kiss below her ear.

“ _Mnn_ , Good.”

She groans. Linking her arms around his neck, scraping through his hair as he shuddered out a growling moan onto her skin. His breath burned her neck with the heat of it. But she didn’t want him to pull away. Were the sober, they would have atleast waited to be left alone to expose such rampant PDA to a packed room full of friends. But as it is, toss in the influence of a few shots and stiff drinks, and propriety and the very Britsh preconception of caring what others surrounding them thought, went sailing right out of the window. Limit’s were lowered, libido’s and courage pushed high due to the drink, and their need for one another’s bodies was swelling by the ardent second.

“…Because if this is you on _your worst_ behavior, I’d hate to be shown what your _best_ is…”

She purrs into her lover’s ear. Which makes his bite his lip and slap one hand to the back of her waist, pulling her closer to arch onto his hard chest, crushing her breasts to his front. A guttural moan thundered dangerously down low in his throat.

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose to you, my best, when we are in a room crowded to the brim with people…” He rasps.

“It requires us to be alone, near a bed, and _naked_.”

He hushes into her ear.

“What a coincidence. Happens to be my favourite kind of pastime…”

She groans back with a flirty wink.

“Good thing I left my knickers at home for the practicality of such a situation, then, isn’t it?”

Libby asks, leaning close, whispering to him.

Lord, his slowly growing semi throbbed at _that_ thought

“Care to come and find an empty cloakroom with me after the countdown to new year..”

He asks her, but it sounded more like an order, and his eyes were _blue coals_ , they were so hot.

“Let’s get wild Fields. I know where the unused first floor guest room is.”

She smirks.

“It boasts a superking sized bed that could use some messing up…”

He shook his head, smiling at how, _oh, how, that sentence was going to earn her one hard fuck when they were alone._ Sneaking away from the busy party to indulge in a hot and sweaty tumble in the guest room was something his sober mind would _never_ consider, but she was drunk - as was he - yummy, flirty and urging him on, and he’d sate her on that until he couldn’t hold out for one single thrust more.

“I hope you haven’t made plans tomorrow, Lucky, And if you do. Bloody cancel them. Because I want to fuck the living _hell_ out of you, I mean that as in literally fuck your brains out all over the place. I want god damn angry sex because I’m drunk, and your annoyingly sexy, and annoyingly flirty with me tonight when you know I cant do a thing in a room full of strangers. And when we find that room I want to fuck the shit right out of you until it leaves you paralysed from the waist down.”

He snarls into her neck, and she knows now, that she is dripping down her thighs for him under this dress. She beams at him in the gap when he pulls back and kisses her.

“Well. Fields. Heaven knows, You seduce me like Scott. F. Fitzgerald…” She began.

“But I promise I’ll fuck you like Hemmingway.” He smirks back.

“Perfect.” She grins kissing his lips.

“That reminds me, have you thought about my little offer in January?” He asks.

Libby smiled wide. She had thought about it. Ever since he asked her last week. And the fact he wanted her, there, by his side for moral support was enough to make her go. Situation be damned. Even if _he who shall remain nameless_ would be there. It was a large awards ceremony, after all, the most prestigious in Britain. And _the one who shall remain un-named_ was a reputed actor after all. So he's most likely be there for it. But, make no mistake about it. She was going for _her man,_ and _her man_ alone.

“I adore to go to the BAFTA’s with you, Jay.” She smiles.

He grinned wide to that. Stroking over the silk of her pale cheek in his palm.

“Promise me you’ll wear no knickers that evening too?” He asks hopefully.

“No Promises. Rogue. It all comes down to my dress…” She smiles.

“I’ll _come down_ to _your_ dress in a minute…”

He flirts in a warning, eyes flickering to her cleavage.

“Manners, man.”

She chides at the lewd euphemism.

It was at this point that a third person interjected themselves into JJ and Libby’s little exclusive and romantic bubble of desire. And Jules did it by swooping across behind them both, out of sight, and shoving noisemakers under their noses.

“Countdown’s coming up, Lovebird’s...”

She winked to her friend, and her friends man.

“And for the sake of all sad singletons in the room tonight, please, dial down the PDA. I need a cold shower just from _glancing_ at the two of you, tonight..”

She smiles. A little drunk herself, grinning wide as she spoke, a hand on each of their arms as she hauled them on their feet. Coming to the balcony to watch the fireworks scatter and shriek across the sky.

JJ chuckled, slinging a hand across his Lucky’s waist. Swaying themselves over to the large glass window, where everyone else was gathering, grabbing onto someone else to kiss when the time came. Libby watched with amusement as someone very familiar – and drunk – swayed across to them, clapping JJ on the back and nearly falling _into_ her, they were so well oiled.

“New Years Resolutions, chaps, come’mon out with’them…”

Tom slurred, doing that wide sideways grin that had babes all over the world screaming _mad_ about him.

“Ugh. Um. Be more adventurous…”

“Mn. Kinky.”

JJ purred, waggling his brows.

Libby gave him a look. He would have felt the shame of it, had she not been so wrapped up lovingly in his arms. Chests touching, feet brushing, and both their arms folded round the other person.

Tom ricocheted into the staple ‘ehehe’ chuckle, before JJ answered his resolution.

“Mine, mn. Love more.”

JJ winked to Libby.

“Aw, you two are so cute, It’s making me neauseasss.”

Tom mumbled indistinctly

“I don’t think that’s all down to us, _Thomas dear._ I think that’s due to whatever it is that’s on your breath. Of which, may I say, could floor a Rhino.” JJ smirked.

“Ditto.” Libby grinned.

Tom pouted, frowning moodily at them.

“Ruuuude.” He glared.

The people around them all were beginning to chant. They were down to 20 now. The shouts growing in volume.

Tom’s eyes shot wide. Before he spun round drunkenly and helped fuel the shouting. Before he then stumbled off with a panicked cry of “ _Bloody hell. I have to find somebody to kiss…”_

Libby and JJ laughed, before they looked into each others eyes.

“This year been everything you could’ve wished for?”

He asked, in a hush. And even above all the din around them. She could still hear him hush softly to her. 

“Some bit’s I could have done without..”

She commented.

“But I _couldn’t_ have done _without_ _you_ …”

She smiled, cupping his cheeks and swaying close.

“ _10, 9, 8, 7, 6…”_

Came the deafening shouts.

JJ pulled her so there was no air to spare between their bodies as he cupped the back of her neck.

“I _adore_ you.”

He smiled down to her, making her tummy flutter.

“Oh yeah? Prove it?”

She challenges cheekily.

_“5, 4, 3, 2, 1…”_

He stared at her with passionate sexy defiance.

“Don’t give me a challenge you now you can’t win..”

He growls, before he mashes his lips to hers and gives her a snog that would have made cassanova blush from head to toe.

Shouts and cries of “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” erupted all around them in the room, balloons flew everywhere, poppers crackled like sharp gunfire in the air, paper streamers erupted all over the place, and you couldn’t hear your own thoughts for all the cheering and embracing that was suffocating the room.

They pulled away just in time, as a familiar lanky leggy body, once again, stumbled into the both of them,

“I couldn’t find anyone to kiss!”

Tom cried in panic. Like he would be _shot_ for such a heinous catastrophe.

“That, I _don’t believe_ …” JJ sarrced.

“You’ll have to do…”

Tom garbled to Libby in a rush.

“Uh, how I _love it_ when men say that to me..”

Libby snapped mockingly, hand to her chest, looking heartened. Before her smile dropped off her face. Replaced by mock anger. 

Without much coordination, Tom took Libby’s face into his hands, and pulled her head close to give her a wet sloppy smooch on the lips as she squeaked and smiled in protest, laughing when he pulled away. Murmuring his name into the kiss. 

“Hey!”

JJ shouted stonily. Frowning a little.

Tom looked sheepish.

“Believe me. I’m not trying to steal your woman out from under you. I’ve had her once. I _don’t_ want her _back_.” Tom insisted.

“Charming.”

Libby rolled her eyes.

“No. _It wasn’t_ that. Your welcome to her. I’m just feeling left out, over here.”

JJ shrugged like a petulant child.

Libby frowned to her lover at such a shorthanded palming off.

Tom tilted his head, before he opened his arms wide, and threw himself on the man, who hugged him back, JJ accepting a sloppy kiss on his mouth from a very pissed Tom Hiddleston. She tries not to get too aroused at the thought, and sight, of the both of them kissing. There was something about it that made her sexually and curiously interested. But it was like a car crash, she found she couldn’t look away. Her eyes glued to them like magnets…

JJ hugged Hiddles tight after their kiss.

“Happy new Year. T-boy. I knew you wouldn’t leave me.”

“Though _I_ might.”

Libby interjected. Seeing that made JJ eyes shoot open and grimace at her.

“Traitor.”

He shot back, before he unclasped himself from Tom, and patted the drunken man on the back of the had, before he swayed away, blowing his loud trumpet noisemaker thing, as _loudly_ as he could.

“If that boy makes it home in one piece, I’ll be amazed.”

JJ spoke wryly across to her. tugging her back into his arms.

“Happy New Year, My Lucky.”

He smiled, before he snogged her into oblivion again, and when he pulled away, his purred words made her bite her lip.

“Speaking of which. I think I’m going to start living up to my New Years Resolution _right_ away, in terms of _loving_ more...I think I'll start with _you_.”

He coos, leading her away by the hand.

“And I’d just _hate_ to see you fail your resolutions in the first few seconds of the new year..”

She purred, swinging her hips in a sway that his eyes as glued too, as she tugged him behind her now.

“How thoughtful of you, Lucky.”

JJ growled, slapping her ass, _hard._

“Now come on. Stop flirting and get me to that spare room. I can think _of something_ for us to do that doesn’t require **, _a.n.y._** clothing _at all_ …”

He flirts, as they quickly rush away from the crowds. Slinking away for some much needed privacy…

 

~


	14. Oh, Scandalous Mr. C....

 

 

A teasing little taster of the next chapter...

 

~

 

She tore her body out of that place so fast, she had reached the street without even knowing it. Even though her dress wasn't clingy, or skin tight even, her chest felt crushed, and inflexible. Like concrete. It felt like her lungs were being stabbed with red hot needles with every deep breath she took.

She doesn't know how she managed not to crumple into a useless Deflated sack of skin down the large front steps. It is only when cold air hits her skin that she realises she is freezing.

Now she was stood halfway down the steps. Wiping away her tears of shame and humiliation with the back of her hand. Down below on the road. She can see the sleek dark merc where JJ was waiting within for her.

Then she hears him.

Scattering after her. Running. Calling her name. Clamouring for her. And she weeps a few more tears at that.

He wanted her. But they both knew he couldn't have her. Not like this. _Never like this._ Not with his wife-to-be sat in the other room. Not with her wonderful lover waiting for her patiently outside in the car. And that song.The _bloody song_ still ringing in her ears. One which she helped Lianne write months ago when she was so seething mad at him. And he had heard it tonight. Every single pain soaked, heart renching, word.

And then he's behind her. In a second. Right there with her, On the steps. Gently grabbing her by the shoulder, his smooth warm hands which had been _all over_ her a moments previous, tugging her back to twist around to face him.

She _can't_ even fight him. She doesn't know where her fighting spirit flitted off too. Maybe she is too cold. Her body too drained and spent to bother arguing with him any more. Whatever it is, for a second, she lets him manipulate her into his grasp because she was too cowardly to protest it.

She turns to see his face. Handsome as he ever was. The bony cheekbones, the eyes which had universal colours confined in them. Those sinfully full lips - smeared with stains of her red lipstick - gaped as he panted breath.

Both hands gripping and pulling her close by the upper arms.

" _Please_. Libby. I didn't mean you any harm. I _just - I w_ -"

He gasps. His voice low and rumbling it's deep resonance at her.

"Don't. Just _don't_. Ben...please..."

She rasps. Her throat sore with the words.

"Listen to me. Please...I.."

He stammers.

"I don't _want_ to stand here and listen to you!"

She cries out loudly. At last her sense of spirit and bravery was returning. Shrugging him away. 

Her tender lungs burning with ever word she yells at him.

"You don't have the right, _ok. You hear me?_ Ben. No right at all. None whatsoever, to keep swooping back into my life and _fucking_ everything up again... Things are finally going good for me. I, I can enjoy my life again. Not treat it with disdain because of the way you snarled abuse and hatred at me that night. And every other time I've seen you. I _love John_. _Ok_. I love him. I really do. He is good for me. And I've only just started coming around to the fact that I _deserve_ to be happy. I deserve to love him too..." She weeps.

He shakes his head to her words, his own eyes looking watery and tragic as his hands reached up from cupping her arms, to cup the sides of her neck.

"I..." He pants.

 _But he couldn't say it._ I what?

_He loves her?_

_He wants her?_

_He needs her?_

He directly drove her away, and now he wants nothing but to snatch her back and keep her close _for always_. _Only her._ Always _her_.

"Libby. That _song_..."

He pants.

"Was co-written by me a very long time ago..." She explained.

"When I felt _very_ differently to how I feel about you now..."

She insists. Throwing him off her, even though his touch made her soften.

She shoved him back with all the pathetic force she could muster. She turns and tries to walk away.

But he can't let her. He can't. Not that easily. Not just like that. He watches the back of her beautiful pale neck as she turns, his eyes track down the back of her striking Alexander McQueen dress. The harsh black brought out by the shocking red lining from the slits up her thighs, and the flash of her sexy red heels.

"Ok. I shouldn't have done, what I did. But you have to understand. That I'm miserable. Okay. _Are you happy?_ I'm a _mess_ and I hate myself for _loosing_ you. Please don't be mad for what I did..." He begs.

" _Don't be mad? D_ on't be mad when you just cornered me like this when your _fiancé_ sits in the next room..." She hisses.

"There were _two_ participants of that kiss by my count..."

He grunts out.

"Don't turn this back on me. _You_ chased after _me_. Benedict. You pursued _me_."

She snaps as she turns. Intending fully to join JJ in that car. Away from him.

"I did. Because I can't stomach loosing you. N _ot again_. Not more than I already have..." He begins. 

"When will you learn you lost me _long_ ago."

She relents. Crying a few tears still.

"Please. Libby. I'm _begging you..."_

"Go back to your fiancé. Ben. You need to learn to leave well enough alone."

She implores. Walking across the flat pavement now. To come to the car. And he stands. And watches. Hating how they were.

And hating how she looked so stunningly lovely tonight. The gown masking her wondrous curves. The artfully done make up. Those infamous red curls of hers pinned up. Half having been rearranged because of the way he grabbed and handled her with rough passion. Her cheeks wet with ribboned trails of salty tears.

When would he ever not destroy her by telling her how he truly felt?

"Don't go to New York. Will you at least _do that_ for me."

He begs. She stops at that. Now stood by the car. Pausing. Tilting her head to the heavens and letting more tears flood her eyes. Dripping down her cheeks.

"If I decide not to go to New York. Trust me when I say, It will not be because of _you_..."

She cries lowly. Before she tugs open the car door, slings herself inside. Slamming it shut. JJ watches her silently as she sinks down in her seat. And he gives the nod for him to drive away. He frowns. She was crying. Mascara starting to bleed down her under eyes, and her lipstick was bruised and smudged. And she turned her face away from him. Looking out of the distorted, rain speckled tinted dark window so he couldn't see the state she was in. Watching the night, as London glided by. Spiriting her away from her heartbreak.

The concern doesn't leave his features for her.

Especially not when he twists back, looking out of the dark back window, to see, who else? But Ben stood watching after the car as it left. That famous profile and tux suited body tinted red by the disappearing glow of the cars rear lights as he pined after it.

He turned and sat forwards in his seat. Before he shrugs off his tux jacket. And shuffles forwards on his seat, linking it about her cold, pale shoulders. His familiar friendly Paco Rabbane scent and the warmth of his body swathing her. And his heart breaks when she cries big fat tears anew at that. 

" _I'm sorry."_ she gasps. 

And she repeats it. Over and over. Like a mantra. _I'm sorry. Jay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry_. It doesn't stop. She whimpers her words, along with several 'I love you's too. 

She didn't need to say much more. He unbuckles his belt. Slides across the seats to her side, and wraps his arms around her. Holding her close. Whispering a soft ' _Come here, Lucky'_ as he does. Pulling her catatonic and hurting body into his. Lulling her cries. Soothingly letting her weep onto his chest. Clutching his body tightly. Fisting his thin dress shirt in her hands as she sobs. Feeling the searing heat of his skin burn her. She gasps, panting for another breath. He didn't care that she was leaving wet stains on his expensive shirt. He presses kisses, peppering them onto her head. Stroking her. Holding her. And loving her. In a way she felt she didn't deserve. 

Even from such a distance. When he looked back at Ben, his eyes had picked up the stain of red on his mouth. Of which the remaining smudges of it, not on the man, rested on _her..._

Back on the pavement where one man stood alone. Ben heard the heels of his fiancé clack up. Coming to a stop behind him. And he doesn't even turn when she speaks.

He just watches as a very important car disappears off down the road into the nights traffic.

"Nice Lipstick. Ben. Though red really _isn't_ your colour..."

He hears Rachel snarl.

 

~

 

 


	15. Update!!!!!

 

 

Hello all.

This is just a note to update you on my slowness. Over the next few months I will be paying more attention to - finally - updating this work. That I've been slugging through for the past year. You have my word. I'm dying to finish it. And end all the angsty times between Ben/Libby. I shall move into writing sparkier, happier, more loving stuff. Which I can't wait for.

And I've got hundreds of others to update too. Agents Provactrice. Pet. Morchame Park. Violet Sterling and Allerdale Hall. Crimson Sun story. (And my god I really have written a lot looking at that list!!!)

Anyway. Just thought I'd let you know this story hasn't been forgotten about. And I thought I would enlighten you on a couple of stories that I have floating about in my brain. Mostly B/L related. But a couple tie in with my other works...

-JJ/Libby - meeting and first shag story. On the third star film set.

-JJ/Libby - for her interview with an illustration agency in New York. During B/L angsty times.

-forbidden nights: the night no one talks about: after a long dry summer, (for both) Libby goes to see Tom as Hal on hollow frown set. And due to long filming and niether of them getting any. It may lead to some sex that they both know they really shouldn't have!   
(Pre Ben/Libby of course!!)

\- Libby/Ben. Moving in. Getting a dog. So much more smut it's unbelievable. A trip to New York for work for one certain redhead. In which Ben tags along and spoils her.

-and of course, Ben meeting Libby's mad family. Modelling smut in D&G leading on from their Italian adventures. General fluff and love. And of course. Getting down on one knee with a ring.

  
Let me know. And if you have any prompts. Please share! I'd love to hear from you!!! Inbox me any slight little thought!

  
Much love from a Punk

X


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